rn  OUR  LITTLE 

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MARYHAZELTONWADE 


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YELLOW  THUNDER 

Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 


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Our  Little  African  Cousin 
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Our  Little  Arabian  Cousin  1 

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YELLOW    THUNDER. 


I  YELLOW  THUNDER  f 

^  Our  Little  Indian  Cousin  4. 

* * 

*  * 

*  By  4. 

T  Mary  Hazelton  Wade  T 

* * 

<4*  Illustrated  by  *L 

Y                        L.  J.  Bridgman  ^ 

« * 

* * 

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Copyright,  iqoi 
By  L.  C.  Page  &  Company 

(incorporated) 
All  rights  reserved 


Twelfth    Impression,    March,    1909 
Thirteenth  Impression,  June,  1910 


Preface 

Once  upon  a  time,  as  you  doubtless  know, 
there  were  no  white  people  in  the  Western 
world.  In  those  days  our  Indian  cousins 
were  free  to  wander  wherever  they  wished, 
from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific. 

Some  of  them  had  their  homes  on  the  great 
plains,  where  herds  of  wild  buffaloes  supplied 
them  with  food  and  clothing.  Others  dwelt 
by  the  shores  of  lakes  and  rivers.  Whenever 
they  wished  a  change,  they  moved  their  camps 
from  one  spot  to  another.  They  had  little  to 
fear  except  the  attacks  of  unfriendly  tribes  of 
their  own  race. 

When  the  white  men,  with  their  greater 
skill  and  knowledge,  came  to  America,  many 
troubles   began  for   our  red  cousins.     These 


VI 


Preface 


troubles  were  such  as  they  had  never  known 
before.  They  were  driven  away  from  the 
homes  that  were  so  dear  to  them.  Great 
numbers  were  killed.  Strong  drink,  given 
to  them  by  the  white  strangers,  was  the  ruin 
of  thousands.  Still  others  died  from  sickness 
and  want. 

The  people  whom  we  have  called  Indians 
ever  since  Columbus  gave  them  that  name 
now  think  with  sadness  of  the  old  free  and 
happy  days  before  the  white  traders  gave  them 
beads  and  blankets  in  exchange  for  large  tracts 
of  land. 

There  were  then  no  roads,  no  cities,  no 
stores  or  factories  in  all  this  vast  continent, 
and  yet  our  red  cousins  were  freer  and  happier 
than  they  can  ever  hope  to  be  again. 

Malden,  Mass.,  May,  1904. 


List  of  Illustrations 

PACK 

Yellow  T*tv«der        ....  Frontispiece 

"She  swings  on  the  branch  of  a  tree"    .  .      15 

"He  will   give  hu  son  wise  words  of  counsel"      29 
"He  shoots  down  the  river"  .  .  .  -49 

"  His  wife  is  standing  in  the  door  of  the  wigwam  "      57 
"They  .  .  .  danced  in  every  hut  in  the  village"     75 


YELLOW  TI 

Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 


They  call  him  Yellow  Thunder.  Do  not 
be  afraid  of  your  little  cousin  because  he  bears 
such  a  terrible  name.  It  is  not  his  fault,  I 
assure  you.  His  grandmother  had  a  dream 
the  night  he  was  born.  She  believed  the 
Great  Spirit,  as  the  Indians  call  our  Heavenly 
Father,  sent  this  to  her.  In  the  dream  she 
saw  the  heavens  in  a  great  storm.  Lightning 
flashed  and  she  constantly  heard  the  roar  of 
thunder.  When  she  awoke  in  the  morning 
she  said,  "  My  first  grandson  must  be  called 
f Yellow  Thunder.'"  And  Yellow  Thunder 
became  his  name. 

But  his  loving  mamma  does  not  generally 
call  him  this.     When  he  is  a  good  boy  and 

9 


io       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

she  is  pleased  with  him,  she  says,  "  My  bird." 
If  he  is  naughty,  for  once  in  a  great  while  this 
happens,  she  calls  him  "  bad  boy." 

For  some  reason  I  don't  understand  my- 
self, she  rarely  speaks  his  real  name.  Per- 
haps it  is  sacred  to  her,  since  she  believes  it 
was  directed  by  the  Great  Spirit. 

Yellow  Thunder  lives  in  the  forests  of  your 
own  land,  North  America.  His  skin  is  a  dull, 
smoky  red,  his  eyes  are  black  and  very 
bright,  his  hair  is  black  and  coarse.  His  body 
is  straight  and  well  formed.  He  can  run 
through  the  woods  as  quickly  and  softly  as  a 
deer.  He  lives  in  a  bark  house  made  by  his 
mother.  His  father  is  strong  and  well,  yet  he 
did  not  help  in  building  it.  He  thinks  such 
work  is  not  for  men.     It  is  fit  only  for  women. 

When  I  tell  you  how  it  is  made,  you  will 
not  think  it  is  very  hard  work.  Yellow 
Thunder's  patient  mamma  chose  the  place  for 
her  home,  and  then  gathered  some  long  poles 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin        1 1 

in  the  forest.  She  set  these  poles  in  a  circle 
in  the  ground,  bent  them  over  at  the  top,  and 
tied  them.  She  left  a  small  hole  at  the  top. 
The  framework  of  the  house  was  now  com- 
plete. What  should  she  have  for  a  covering  ? 
She  went  out  once  more  into  the  woods  and 
got  some  long  sheets  of  white  birch  bark.  At 
the  end  of  each  sheet  she  fastened  a  rim  of 
cedar  wood.  The  sheets  of  bark  were  hung 
on  the  framework,  with  the  rim  at  the 
bottom  of  each  one,  and  the  house  was 
finished.  The  rim  would  be  useful  in  keeping 
the  bark  from  being  lifted  by  the  winds.  But, 
if  there  should  be  a  severe  storm,  the  Indian 
woman  would  lay  stones  on  the  rims  to  keep 
the  bark  down  more  firmly  still. 

This  is  Yellow  Thunder's  simple  home, 
summer  and  winter.  You  would  probably 
freeze  there  in  the  cold  days  of  December, 
but  the  Indian  boy  was  brought  up  to  endure 
a  great  deal  of  cold. 


12       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

Let  us  look  inside.  We  must  first  lift  the 
deerskin  which  hangs  in  the  doorway.  Does 
the  family  sit  on  the  cold,  bare  ground,  do 
you  think  ?  Oh,  no ;  Yellow  Thunder  has 
helped  his  mamma  make  good  thick  rugs  out 
of  the  bullrushes  and  flags  which  they  gather 
every  autumn.  These  rugs  are  very  pretty, 
for  they  are  woven  and  dyed  with  the  bright 
colours  the  Indian  women  know  how  to  make. 
There  are  many  of  these  mats,  because  they 
are  used  for  many  purposes.  Yellow  Thunder 
sleeps  on  one  of  them  at  night.  In  the  day- 
time he  sits  on  a  mat  whenever  he  is  in  the 
house.  But  he  is  such  a  strong  lad,  he  is 
out-of-doors  nearly  all  the  time,  both  in  sun- 
shine and  in  storm. 

In  the  middle  of  the  house  you  will  notice 
there  is  a  bare  spot  covered  with  clean  sand. 
This  is  the  place  where  the  fire  is  made.  It  is 
carefully  swept  when  there  is  no  fire.  If  you 
look  directly  over  the  fireplace,  you   can  see 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       13 

the  sky.  On  rainy  days,  unless  the  mother  is 
cooking,  she  keeps  the  hole  covered  with  a 
piece  of  deerskin,  that  the  inside  of  the  house 
may  be  dry. 

But  how  does  she  prepare  the  food  for 
breakfast,  for  that  is  the  principal  meal  of  the 
day  to  the  Indian  ?  A  strong  hook  is  fastened 
in  the  framework  of  the  house,  above  the  fire- 
place. The  Indian  mother  hangs  a  pot  on  the 
hook,  puts  in  the  meat  or  fish,  and  it  boils 
quickly  over  the  burning  twigs  which  her 
little  boy  has  gathered. 

Let  us  look  around  the  wigwam.  Of  course, 
you  have  long  ago  heard  that  name  for  the 
Indian's  house.  What  beautiful  baskets  of 
rushes  those  are !  I  wonder  how  the  red  men 
discovered  the  way  of  making  such  beautiful 
colours.  Besides  many  other  things,  the  jew- 
elry and  clothing  of  the  whole  family  are  kept 
in  these  baskets.  Look  up  at  the  sides  of  the 
hut  and  notice  the  bows  and  arrows.     And, 


14       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

yes  !  there  is  a  real  tomahawk,  with  its  sharp 
edge  sticking  in  that  corner.  Ears  of  corn 
braided  together  are  hanging  from  the  frame- 
work. 

But  the  prettiest  thing  we  see  is  the  baby's 
cradle,  fastened  to  a  peg.  Two  bright  black 
eyes  are  looking  out  of  it,  and  that  is  all 
we  can  see  of  Yellow  Thunder's  baby  sister, 
"  Woman  of  the  Mountain."  It  took  the 
loving  mother  a  long  time  to  make  that  cradle. 
She  was  very  happy  while  doing  it,  for  she 
loves  her  baby  tenderly. 

It  is  hardly  right  to  call  it  a  cradle.  Baby- 
frame  is  a  better  name.  It  was  made  in  three 
pieces,  out  of  the  wood  of  the  maple-tree,  —  a 
straight  board  about  two  feet  long  for  the  bot- 
tom, a  carved  foot-board,  and  a  bow  which  is 
fastened  to  the  sides  and  arches  over  the 
baby's  head.  These  are  all  bound  together 
with  the  sinews  of  a  deer.  It  is  lined  with 
moss,  and  then  Woman  of  the   Mountain  is 


•«  SHE    SWINGS    ON    THE    BRANCH    OF    A    TREE. 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       15 

fastened  in  her  queer'  little  bed  with  straps, 
which  her  mamma  has  made  beautiful  with 
bead  work.  Moss  is  placed  between  her  feet, 
her  hands  are  bound  at  her  side,  her  feet  are 
bound  down  also,  and  a  beaded  coverlet  is 
placed  over  her  tiny  body.  She  looks  like  a 
little  mummy. 

If  it  is  stormy  she  is  hung  up  on  a  peg 
in  the  hut  to  swing,  but  if  it  is  a  pleasant 
day,  she  swings  on  the  branch  of  a  tree  and 
watches  the  leaves  flutter  and  the  birds  sing. 
She  is  a  happy  little  baby,  although  you 
would  hardly  think  it  possible.  She  got  used 
to  her  imprisonment  almost  as  soon  as  she 
was  born.     She  doubtless  thinks  it  is  all  right. 

When  mamma  goes  out  into  the  forest  to 
gather  wood,  or  into  the  corn  field  to  work, 
Woman  of  the  Mountain  goes  too.  The 
baby-frame  is  fastened  on  her  mother's  back 
by  a  pretty  beaded  strap  bound  over  the 
woman's  forehead. 


1 6       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

When  the  Indian  baby  was  only  two  days 
old,  she  was  fastened  into  her  cradle  and 
carried  all  day  on  mamma's  back  while  she 
was  weeding  the  garden.  To  be  sure,  the 
woman  stopped  two  or  three  times  to  feed 
her  baby,  but  the  little  thing  was  not  once 
taken  out  of  her  frame. 

Perhaps  you  would  like  to  hear  a  lullaby 
the  Indian  mamma  often  sings  to  her  little 
one  as  she  swings  in  her  frame.  I  fear 
you  could  not  understand  the  Indian  words, 
so  I  will  give  them  as  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Oakes 
Smith  wrote  them  in  English : 

Swinging,  swinging,  lul  la  by, 

Sleep,  little  daughter,  sleep, 
'Tis  your  mother  watching  by, 

Swinging,  swinging,  she  will  keep, 
Little  daughter,  lul  la  by. 

■  'Tis  your  mother  loves  you,  dearest, 

Sleep,  sleep,  daughter,  sleep, 
Swinging,  swinging,  ever  nearest, 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       17 

Baby,  baby,  do  not  weep; 
little  daughter,  lul  la  by. 

"  Swinging,  swinging,  lul  la  by, 

Sleep,  sleep,  little  one, 
And  thy  mother  will  be  nigh  — 

Swing,  swing,  not  alone  — 
Little  daughter,  lul  la  by." 

You  can  understand  from  this  how  dearly 
the  Indian  mother  loves  her  baby, — just  as 
dearly,  I  do  not  doubt,  as  your  own  mamma 
has  always  loved  and   cared  for  you. 

But  what  is  Yellow  Thunder's  stern- 
looking  father  doing  all  the  time?  He  has 
no  store  to  keep,  no  mill  to  grind,  no 
factory  to  work  in.  There  are  only  three 
things  which  deserve  his  attention.  At  least 
that  is  what  he  thinks.  He  hunts  or  fishes, 
goes  to  war,  and  holds  councils  with  the 
men  of  his  tribe.  Everything  else  he  believes 
is  woman's  work,  and  from  the  Indian's 
standpoint,  woman  is  much   beneath   a   man. 


1 8       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

After  all,  the  men's  work  is  really  the 
hardest.  Sometimes  it  is  easy  for  them  to 
find  plenty  of  food.  Then  Yellow  Thunder's 
father  comes  home  rejoicing  with  the  big 
load  he  carries.  Perhaps  he  has  a  red  deer 
hanging  over  his  shoulder ;  perhaps  it  is  a 
bear  which  he  has  chased  many  miles  before 
he  could  get  near  enough  to  kill  it;  or  it 
may   be  some  raccoons   for  a  delicious    stew. 

But,  again,  it  may  be  stormy  weather. 
The  rivers  are  frozen  over  and  snow  covers 
the  ground.  Then,  perhaps,  the  hunter  has 
little  success  with  his  bow  and  arrow,  and 
searches  long  and  far  before  he  can  find  any- 
thing to  satisfy  his  children's  hunger.  He 
feels  sad,  but  not  for  a  moment  does  he 
think  of  complaining  or  giving  up.  It  is  his 
duty  to  obtain  food  for  his  family.  It  does 
not  matter  how  cold  he  gets  or  how  wet  he 
may  be.  He  keeps  travelling  onward.  He 
will  not  give  up.     If  he  does  not  at  last  get 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       19 

enough  for  all,  he  will  insist  on  his  wife  and 
children  satisfying  their  hunger  first.  He 
would  scorn  to  show  that  he  himself  is  tired, 
or  hungry,  or  suffering  in  any  way. 

We  can  understand  now  why  the  Indian 
baby  is  pinned  down  in  its  cradle  and  not 
allowed  to  move  freely.  It  is  its  first  lesson 
in  endurance.  It  must  learn  to  be  uncom- 
fortable and  not  to  show  that  it  is  so.  It 
must  learn  to  bear  pain,  and  neither  cry 
nor  pucker  its  mouth.  It  must  learn  to 
appear  calm,  no  matter  how  it  feels. 

The  hunt  is  pleasant  sometimes,  you  see, 
but  at  others  it  is  work  of  the  hardest  kind. 

The  second  duty  of  the  red  boy's  father  is 
war.  He  must  protect  his  home  from  human 
and  wild  beast  enemies.  But  I'm  really  afraid 
that  it  is  a  pleasure  for  him  to  fight.  If 
Indians  had  not  been  at  war  so  much  among 
themselves,  it  would  have  been  far  harder  for 
the  white  people  to  conquer  them.     I  suppose 


20       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

you  children  have  all  heard  the  story  of  the 
bundle  of  sticks,  but  I  will  repeat  it. 

A  certain  man  was  about  to  die.  He  gath- 
ered his  sons  around  him  to  give  them  good 
advice.  He  showed  them  some  sticks  fastened 
tightly  together.  Then  he  asked  each  one  to 
try  to  break  the  bundle.  No  one  could  do 
it.  When  he  saw  that  they  failed,  he  sep- 
arated the  sticks,  and  showed  them  how  easy 
it  was  to  break  each  one  by  itself. 

"  Take  a  lesson  from  this,"  said  the  man. 
"  If  you  are  united  and  work  together,  you 
will  succeed  in  anything  you  undertake,  for 
no  one  can  break  your  strength.  If,  however, 
you  quarrel  among  yourselves  and  try  to  work 
each  for  himself,  you  will  be  like  the  separate 
twigs,  —  easily  broken." 

It  has  been  like  this  with  the  Indians. 
They  have  fought  against  each  other^  tribe 
with  tribe.  They  are  very  brave  and  have 
great  courage.     But  they  have  not  understood 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       21 

that  they  should  work  together.     So  the  white 
man  came  and  was  able  to  conquer  them. 

Besides  hunting  and  going  to  war,  Yellow 
Thunder's  papa  is  often  busy  in  the  council. 
All  matters  of  business  are  settled  here.  New 
chiefs  are  chosen  at  the  council ;  wrong-doers 
are  punished  according  to  what  it  decides,  and 
treaties  with  other  tribes  or  the  white  men  are 
talked  over  and  agreed  upon.  Sometimes  a 
council  will  last  many  days.  It  is  always 
opened  with  a  prayer  to  the  Great  Spirit, 
thanking  him  for  his  good  gifts  to  the  peo- 
ple. Each  evening,  after  the  business  of  the 
council  is  over,  games  are  played  by  old  and 
young.  It  is  a  time  for  feasting  and  pleasure. 
No  business  with  other  people  is  really  settled 
by  a  council  without  gifts  of  wampum  to  bind 
the  bargain.  Of  course  you  have  heard  about 
wampum.  Perhaps  you  have  been  told  it  is 
the  Indian's  money.  There  are  two  kinds 
of  wampum.     One  is  purple  and  the   other 


22       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

white.  The  white  wampum  is  shaped  into 
beads  out  of  the  inside  of  large  conch  shells, 
while  the  purple  is  made  from  the  inside  of 
the  mussel  shell.  These  beads  are  strung  on 
deer's  sinews  and  woven  into  belts.  A  belt 
of  white  wampum  is  a  seal  of  friendship  be- 
tween two  tribes.  It  is  the  same  as  a  sacred 
promise  which  must  not  be  broken.  It  is  the 
most  precious  of  all  things  an  Indian  owns. 

Yellow  Thunder's  papa  is  very  fond  of 
tobacco.  He  always  carries  a  beaded  pouch 
filled  with  it.  He  believes  that  the  Great 
Spirit  gave  tobacco  to  the  Indian.  When 
he  smokes  it,  it  opens  a  way  through  which 
he  may  draw  near  God,  and  be  taught  by 
him.  His  pipe  and  tobacco  will  be  buried 
with  him  when  he  dies,  as  he  thinks  they  will 
be  needed  on  his  journey  toward  heaven.  He 
smokes  at  the  council.  He  smokes  around 
the  camp-fire  when  he  is  away  hunting.  He 
smokes  in   the  evening  time  as   he  sits  with 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       23 

his  friends  and  tells  stories  of  the  chase  or 
listens  to  legends  of  his  people, 

I  hardly  know  what  this  Indian  father 
would  do  without  his  pipe,  as  it  seems  to 
give  him  so  much  comfort  and  pleasure. 

See  !  here  he  comes  now.  Yellow  Thunder 
is  at  the  door  of  the  lodge,  watching  him  as 
he  walks  quickly  down  the  forest  path.  He 
is  truly  called  a  "  brave."  He  looks  as  though 
he  would  fear  no  danger.  How  straight  is  his 
body,  and  how  strong  are  his  muscles  ! 

He  wears  leggings  of  deerskin,  finely  worked 
with  beads.  They  are  fastened  just  above  his 
knees.  A  short  kilt  is  gathered  around  his 
waist.  It  is  also  made  of  deerskin,  but  is 
worked  around  the  edge  with  porcupine  quills 
stained  in  several  colours.  It  is  bitterly  cold 
to-day,  so  he  wears  a  blanket  over  his  shoul- 
ders. His  head  is  shaved  bare,  excepting  the 
scalp-lock  at  the  back.  It  must  be  this  which 
makes  him  look  so  fierce. 


24       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

I  want  you  to  notice  his  feet.  They  step 
softly  and  yet  firmly.  You  could  not  walk 
as  he  does.  Perhaps  you  have  pointed  shoes 
with  high  heels.  The  Indian  would  look  with 
scorn  upon  these.  What !  Cramp  the  toes 
with  such  uncomfortable  things  !  Impossible  ! 
He  covers  his  feet  in  the  most  sensible  man- 
ner with  the  soft  moccasins  made  by  his  wife. 
They  fit  his  feet  exactly.  He  can  run  like 
a  deer,  or  creep  along  the  ground  like  a  wild- 
cat in  these  coverings,  and  no  one  will  hear 
him  coming.  Each  moccasin  is  made  of  a 
single  piece  of  deerskin,  seamed  at  the  heel 
and  in  front.  The  bottom  is  smooth  and 
without  a  seam,  while  the  upper  part  is 
worked  with  beads. 

Yellow  Thunder's  good  mamma  uses  a  curi- 
ous needle  and  thread.  The  needle  is  made 
from  the  bone  of  a  deer's  ankle,  and  her 
thread  is  of  the  sinews  of  the  same  animal. 
What  would   the   Indian  have   done  without 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       25 

the  deer  in  the  old  days  before  the  white  man 
came  to  this  country?  I  can't  imagine,  can 
you? 

This  animal  furnished  much  of  his  food  and 
clothing ;  ornaments  were  made  of  his  hoofs  ; 
needles  and  many  other  things  came  from  his 
bones.  Even  the  brains  of  the  creature  were 
used  in  tanning  skins  of  animals.  They  were 
mixed  with  moss,  made  into  cakes,  and  dried 
in  the  sun.  This  mixture  will  keep  a  great 
length  of  time.  Whenever  it  is  needed,  a 
piece  of  this  brain-cake  is  boiled  in  water, 
and  the  skin  is  soaked  in  it  after  the  hair 
is  scraped  off,  Then  it  is  wrung  out  and 
stretched  until  it  is  dry.  But  even  then  the 
skin  is  not  ready  for  use.  It  will  tear  very 
easily.  It  must  be  thoroughly  smoked  on 
both  sides.  This  work  all  belongs  to  Yellow 
Thunder's  mamma.  His  father  has  nothing 
to  do  with  it. 

Suppose  we  follow  the  red  man   into   his 


26       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

home.  Ugh  !  What  a  smoke  there  is  inside  ! 
We  can  hardly  see  across  the  wigwam.  We 
shall  need  to  lie  down  on  the  mat  as  the 
Indian  does.  Our  eyes  will  be  blinded  unless 
we  do  this.  The  wife  has  a  good  meal  waiting 
for  her  husband,  but  she  will  not  eat  till  he 
has  finished.     That  is  Indian  good  manners. 

His  wooden  bowl  and  plate,  together  with 
a  boiled  corn-cake,  are  placed  on  the  mat  in 
front  of  the  man.  Venison  stew  is  served  him 
out  of  the  big  pot,  and  a  dish  of  sassafras  tea 
is  also  set  before  him.  There  is  no  milk  to 
put  into  this  queer  drink,  but  if  he  wishes 
to  sweeten  it,  he  can  add  some  delicious  maple 
syrup.  This  is  certainly  not  a  bad  meal  for 
any  one. 

The  red  man  eats  and  drinks,  while  scarcely 
a  word  is  said  to  his  waiting  family.  When 
he  has  finished  his  meal,  he  will  light  his  pipe 
for  a  quiet  smoke,  after  which  his  wife  and 
child  satisfy  their  hunger. 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       27 

Yellow  Thunder's  mamma  knows  how  to 
prepare  many  a  good  dish.  She  can  make 
several  different  kinds  of  corn  bread.  She 
prepares  soups  of  deer  and  bear  meat.  She 
boils  the  hominy,  on  which  our  little  red 
cousin  pours  the  maple  syrup.  She  makes 
teas  of  wild  spices  and  herbs  which  grow  near 
the  hut.  But  these  drinks  are  not  likely  to 
keep  Yellow  Thunder  awake  at  night.  Neither 
is  there  danger  of  his  starving,  so  long  as  his 
father  can  hunt  and  his  mother  can  gather  her 
crops.  His  food  is  suited  to  make  him  strong 
and  healthy,  and  he  does  not  miss  the  dainties 
of  which  you  are  so  fond. 

The  stern-looking  father  never  thinks  of 
interfering  in  the  management  of  the  home. 
That  is  his  wife's  right.  She  gives  him  his 
sleeping-place  and  the  corner  in  which  he  shall 
put  his  belongings.  She  decides  on  what  shall 
be  cooked,  and  what  shall  be  stored  away. 
She  is  the  ruler  in  the  home. 


28        Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  does  not  expect 
her  to  scold.  She  should  always  be  obliging 
and  happy  in  entertaining  his  friends.  She 
should  be  ready  to  furnish  him  a  good  meal 
whenever  he  comes  home. 

As  yet,  he  does  not  take  much  notice  of 
his  only  son.  He  does  not  correct  the  boy's 
faults.  He  seldom  takes  him  on  his  hunts. 
He  has  left  all  care  of  the  boy  to  his  wife 
up  to  this  time. 

But  Yellow  Thunder  is  now  twelve  years 
old.  He  will  soon  be  a  man.  In  a  year  or 
two,  at  most,  his  father  will  begin  to  make 
a  companion  of  his  son  in  hunting  and  fish- 
ing. He  will  teach  him  the  ways  of  a  brave 
Indian  warrior.  Then  there  will  be  no  more 
woman's  work  for  Yellow  Thunder. 

When  the  time  comes  for  this  great  change 
in  his  life,  he  will  go  out  into  the  forest  to 
fast.  No  one  will  insist  on  his  doing  this. 
He  will  himself  desire  it.     It  is  the  same  as 


HE    WILL    GIVE    HIS    SON    WISE    WORDS    OF    COUNSEL. 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       29 

a  baptism  to  a  young  Indian.  His  father 
will  go  with  him  to  the  lonely  spot  where 
he  decides  to  stay.  He  will  give  his  son 
wise  words  of  counsel.  He  will  urge  him 
to  be  brave  and  keep  his  fast  as  long  as 
possible.  He  will  be  able  to  show  by  this 
how  much  courage  and  spirit  he  possesses, 
and  how  great  a  man  he  desires  to  be.  Then 
he  will  leave  his  son  alone  and  go  back  to 
the  village. 

A  day  passes  by,  and  Yellow  Thunder 
grows  faint.  Two  days  now  are  gone,  and 
the  boy's  thirst  is  intense.  At  the  end  of 
three  days  his  father  comes  back  and  finds 
his  son  lying  weak  and  dizzy  beneath  the 
trees.  He  gives  him  a  little  water,  but  no 
food,  for  Yellow  Thunder  says  he  can  fast 
still  longer. 

The  father  goes  away  again,  leaving  the 
son  to  watch  for  the  visions  which  will  surely 
come.     It  will  be  decided  now  what  the  red 


30       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

boy's  future  will  be.  The  longer  he  can  fast, 
the  greater  man  he  will  become  among  his 
people.  No  one  can  be  a  chief  unless  he 
has  fasted  many  days  at  the  beginning  of 
his  manhood. 

We  cannot  tell  what  Yellow  Thunder 
will  be,  but  we  know  that  his  visions  will 
always  be  remembered.  He  believes  that  his 
guardian  spirits  will  appear  in  some  form  or 
another  to  him,  and  he  will  get  instruction 
about  his  future  life.  He  will  endure  his 
fast  bravely  as  long  as  possible. 

It  sometimes  happens  that  Indian  boys 
die  at  this  time  of  fasting,  but  we  feel  sure 
that  Yellow  Thunder  will  live  and  be  a  joy 
to  his  parents  to  the  end  of  their  lives. 

But  how  is  the  Indian  mother  preparing 
him  for  this  great  test?  She  teaches  him, 
first  of  all,  to  obey.  In  no  other  way  would 
it  be  possible  for  him  to  become  a  great 
man.     He    must    heed    everything    that    his 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       31 

father  and  mother  tell  him.  He  must  always 
be  ready  to  do  their  bidding.  It  is  the 
greatest  token  of  rudeness  to  appear  curious, 
therefore  he  must  ask  no  questions.  He 
must  love  the  truth.  A  lie  is  almost  unknown 
among  the  Indians;  they  scorn  it  as  the  mark 
of  a  cowardly  and  mean  nature.  He  must  be 
brotherly  to  all  creatures,  and  ready  to  give 
to  others  always. 

Yellow  Thunder  has  never  seen  a  pauper 
or  beggar  in  his  life.  Whenever  any  one 
comes  to  his  home,  his  mother  hastens  at 
once  to  prepare  food  for  the  visitor.  It  is 
almost  a  law  to  her  to  do  so.  If  relatives 
should  come  for  a  visit,  they  will  be  made 
welcome  and  allowed  to  stay  as  long  as  they 
desire.  If  they  should  remain  for  the  rest 
of  their  lives,  they  would  never  be  asked 
to  leave.  "  Be  hospitable  to  all,"  is  a  maxim 
planted  in  the  heart  of  every  Indian  child. 

Yellow  Thunder  is  taught    that  everything 


32       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

should  be  shared  in  common.  The  Indian 
does  not  say,  "  My  land."  It  is  always 
"  Ours."  The  people  of  a  tribe  are  truly 
brothers  to  each  other. 

The  red  boy's  mamma  does  not  need  to 
teach  him  that  theft  is  wrong.  It  is  almost 
unknown  among  his  people.  The  idea  of 
doing  such  an  unbrotherly  thing  does  not 
enter  their  heads.  No  wonder  there  are 
neither  poorhouses  nor  prisons  among  these 
people.  We  call  them  savages,  but  there 
are  many  things  we  could  copy  with  profit 
from  them.  Don't  you  think  so,  children  ? 
"  Live  and  learn,"  is  an  old  saying,  and  I 
think  we  would  do  well  to  remember  it 
when  we  read  the  lives  of  our  cousins  in 
many  lands. 

Yellow  Thunder  does  not  go  to  church  or 
Sunday  school.  I  doubt  if  Sunday  is  any 
different  to  him  from  any  other  day.  But 
his  mamma  has  taught  him  that  there  is  one 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       33 

loving  Heavenly  Father  for  all.  If  Yellow 
Thunder  is  good  and  brave,  he  will  go  to 
the  "  happy  hunting-grounds  "  when  he  dies. 
At  least,  this  is  what  he  is  taught  to  believe. 
There  will  be  enough  food  and  an  abundance 
of  animals  to  kill.  Everything  that  the 
Indian  loves  best  to  do  in  this  life,  he 
thinks  can  be  found  in  his  heaven.  But 
there  is  no  place  there  for  the  white  man. 
George  Washington  was  the  only  white  man 
who  ever  lived  whom  they  thought  fit  to 
enter  their  paradise.  The  exception  was 
made  in  his  case  because  he  was  brave  and 
good,  and  treated  the  Indians  fairly  and  justly. 
Yellow  Thunder's  mother  often  tells  him 
of  a  prophecy  which  was  made  long  ago  by 
the  wise  men  of  her  tribe.  They  said  that 
a  great  monster,  with  white  eyes,  would  come 
out  of  the  East  and  consume  the  land.  Did 
the  prophecy  come  true,  you  ask  ?  Yes,  my 
dears,  it  was  the  white  race. 


34       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

When  Yellow  Thunder  thinks  of  the  great 
forests  which  his  people  once  owned,  and  of 
the  numbers  of  animals  roaming  there,  when 
he  remembers  the  wars  which  have  been 
fought  and  lost  with  the  "great  monster," 
his  heart  grows  bitter. 

Don't  blame  him,  children,  but  feel  sorry 
for  your  little  Indian  cousin.  His  people 
have  certainly  had  a  hard  time.  They  have 
been  very  cruel  in  warfare  with  us,  but  they 
felt  they  were  treated  unjustly,  and  we 
were  taking  their  homes  away  from  them. 

Yellow  Thunder  believes  in  the  Great 
Father,  as  I  have  told  you.  His  mother 
has  also  taught  him  that  there  are  many 
spirits,  both  good  and  bad.  God  made  the 
good  spirits  to  help  him  in  his  care  of  this 
great  world.  The  Indian  believes  that  the 
wind  is  a  spirit  of  great  power.  The  thunder 
is  another  spirit,  whom  he  calls  Heno.  Heno 
makes  the  clouds  and  the  rain.     It  is  he  who 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       35 

forms  the  thunderbolt  and  sends  it  to  destroy 
the  wicked. 

The  Great  Spirit  is  very  kind  to  give  men 
such  a  helper,  and  when  the  harvest  time 
comes,  Yellow  Thunder  gives  him  thanks 
and  prays  to  him  that  he  will  continue  to  send 
Heno  into  the  world. 

There  is  an  old  legend  among  the  Indians 
mat  Heno  once  dwelt  in  a  cave  behind 
Niagara  Falls.  The  mighty  rushing  noise 
of  the  water  was  pleasing  to  him. 

Yellow  Thunder  pictures  the  Spirit  of  the 
Winds  to  himself.  This  spirit  has  the  face 
of  an  old  man  who  is  always  in  the  midst 
of  discord,  for  the  four  winds  are  never  at 
peace  with  each  other. 

Then  there  are  the  spirits  of  Corn,  of  Beans, 
and  of  Squash.  Each  one  of  these  is  looked 
upon  as  a  friend  of  the  red  race,  for  these 
vegetables  are  prized  by  them  above  all 
others. 


2,6       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

It  is  believed  that  these  spirits  have  the 
forms  of  beautiful  women,  and  that  they  dwell 
happily  together  and  are  very  fond  of  each 
other. 

There  are  many  other  good  spirits.  The 
red  boy  feels  their  presence  in  the  forests  and 
out  upon  the  waters.  They  are  ever  around 
him  to  protect  him  when  he  is  good.  But,  if 
he  should  be  bad  ?  Ah  !  There  are  many  evil 
spirits,  too,  who  are  only  too  ready  to  work 
mischief  and  harm  among  men,  if  they  have 
the  chance. 

Yellow  Thunder  believes  that  animals  have 
souls,  only  they  are  not  as  wise  as  men. 
Sometimes,  when  they  have  done  great  wrongs, 
men  have  been  changed  into  animals.  Our 
cousin  thinks  the  wolf  was  once  a  little  boy 
like  himself,  but  the  poor  little  fellow  was 
neglected  by  his  parents,  and  was  transformed 
into  an  animal.  The  raccoon  was  once  a  shell 
on  the  seashore.      What  curious  ideas  these 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       37 

are !  Where  do  you  suppose  they  came  from 
before  they  lived  in  the  minds  of  the  red 
race  ? 

While  we  are  speaking  of  these  things,  I  will 
stop  and  tell  you  of  something  that  happened 
at  Yellow  Thunder's  house  the  other  day. 
His  father,  Black  Cloud,  came  home  from  the 
hunt  bringing  a  big  black  bear.  It  was  so 
heavy  that  two  other  men  had  to  help  in 
carrying  it.  They  had  discovered  the  creature 
in  a  hollow  tree  and  had  easily  killed  it.  But 
now  comes  the  amusing  part  of  the  story.  As 
soon  as  the  bear  was  laid  down  in  front  of  the 
hut,  Yellow  Thunder  and  his  mamma  went  up 
to  it  and  began  to  kiss  and  stroke  the  dead 
animal's  head.  Black  Cloud  did  the  same,  and 
then  they  all  begged  the  bear's  pardon  for  hav- 
ing killed  it.  Black  Cloud  said,  "  I  would  not 
have  done  so,  had  we  not  needed  food,  so  I 
know  you  will  forgive  me." 

Then  the  head  of  the  bear  was  cut  off  and 


38       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

laid  on  one  of  the  best  mats.  It  was  decorated 
with  all  the  jewelry  owned  by  the  family. 
There  were  silver  armlets  and  bracelets,  as 
well  as  belts  and  necklaces  of  wampum. 
Tobacco  was  placed  in  front  of  its  head,  while 
each  one  in  turn  lighted  a  pipe  and  blew  the 
smoke  into  the  bear's  nostrils.  This  was  to 
turn  away  its  anger  from  those  who  had  killed 
it.  Black  Cloud  then  made  a  speech  to  the 
bear. 

I  suppose  these  people  believed  that  the 
spirit  of  some  human  being  had  come  to  live 
in  the  animal's  body,  and  they  looked  upon  it 
as  a  friend  whom  they  were  forced  to  kill. 

After  all  this  ceremony,  the  fat  of  the  bear 
was  boiled  down  to  oil,  the  meat  was  cut  up 
and  dried  for  future  use,  while  the  head  was 
put  into  the  pot  to  cook  for  dinner.  I  do  not 
doubt  that  when  the  bear  stew  was  served, 
Yellow  Thunder  did  not  give  a  single  thought 
to  the  idea  of  eating  a  friend.     He  had  done 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       39 

his  duty  in  asking  its  forgiveness,  and  that  was 
enough. 

What  kind  of  a  school  does  Yellow  Thun- 
der attend  ?  It  is  a  very  large  one.  It  covers 
the  forests,  the  rivers,  and  the  lakes.  And 
who  is  his  teacher  ?  The  very  same  one  who 
gives  so  many  lessons  to  Anahei  in  the  hot 
land  of  Borneo,  so  far  away.  Dame  Nature  is 
her  name.  She  is  usually  loving  and  kind, 
but  sometimes  she  shows  her  anger  in  the 
storms  and  winds  which  rage  about  our  little 
cousins. 

The  lessons  which  Yellow  Thunder  learns 
are  very  different  from  those  given  Anahei,  for 
they  live  in  vastly  different  climates.  Anahei, 
you  remember,  is  near  the  equator,  while  Yel- 
low Thunder  lives  in  the  temperate  lands. 
He  learns  from  the  ice  and  the  snow,  he  sees 
different  animals,  plants,  and  trees. 

He  is  quicker,  stronger,  and  brighter  than 
Anahei,   for  the  cold  winters  make    him   so. 


40       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

His  eyes  are  very  sharp,  his  ears  will  hear 
sounds  that  yours  would  not  notice,  his  feet 
can  travel  many  miles  without  his  having  a 
thought  of  being  tired. 

He  has  no  compass,  and  yet  he  can  journey 
in  the  forest  in  any  direction  he  may  choose 
without  losing  his  way.  How  does  he  do  it  ? 
He  has  learned  to  notice  that  the  tops  of  the 
pine-trees  generally  lean  toward  the  rising  sun. 
He  has  discovered  that  moss  grows  toward 
the  roots  of  the  trees  on  their  north  side,  while 
the  largest  branches  of  trees  are  usually  found 
on  the  south  side  of  their  trunks. 

In  fact,  Yellow  Thunder  has  learned  so 
many  of  Nature's  secrets  that,  if  he  should 
reveal   them  all,  they  would  fill  many  books. 

This  cousin  of  yours  knows  nothing  about 
writing  as  you  understand  it.  He  puts  all  his 
stories  into  pictures.  He  could  send  you  a 
letter  with  two  or  three  pictures,  telling  a  long, 
long   story,  but    I    don't   believe    you    could 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       41 

understand  one -quarter  of  it.  His  little 
Indian  friends  would  be  able  to  read  it  all  at  a 
glance. 

Their  eyes  are  well  trained,  although  they 
know  nothing  about  your  alphabet  or  vertical 
penmanship. 

Black  Cloud  often  finds  a  bark  picture 
hanging  to  some  tree  while  he  is  hunting.  It 
is  better  than  any  guide-post  such  as  we 
make,  because  it  will  tell  him  so  much.  He 
will  know  from  it  that  other  red  men  have 
journeyed  this  way,  and  what  kind  of  expe- 
rience they  had.  Perhaps  it  will  warn  him  of 
danger,  or  explain  to  him  the  best  direction  to 
go  if  he  wishes  to  find  more  game. 

You  may  like  to  see  such  a  picture.  I  will 
copy  one  which  Mr.  Henry  Rowe  Schoolcraft 
saw  while  he  was  living  among  the  Indians. 
He  was  exploring  the  country  with  a  party  of 
white  men  and  two  Indian  guides.  They  lost 
their  way  during  the  day  and  camped  out  all 


42       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

night  in  a  deep  forest.  Before  they  went  away 
on  the  next  morning,  the  Indian  guides  hung 
this  picture  on  a  tree : 


They  thought  it  might  be  of  use  to  others 

passing  there. 

Figure  I.  is  the  officer  who  commanded  the 
party.  You  may  know  this  because  he  carries 
a  sword.  II.  has  a  book  in  his  hand.  This 
shows  he  is  the  secretary.     III.  carries  a  ham- 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       43 

mer,  because  he  is  a  geologist.  IV.  and  V.  are 
attendants.  VI.  is  the  man  who  interprets  to 
the  party  the  words  of  the  Indian  guides. 
The  group  of  eight  figures  marked  IX.  con- 
sists of  soldiers.  Their  muskets  stand  in  the 
corner,  and  are  marked  X.  VII.  and  VIII.  are 
the  two  Indian  guides.  You  will  notice  that 
they  are  drawn  with  no  hats,  which  shows  at 
once  that  they  are  not  white  men.  XIII., 
XIV.,  and  XV.  represent  fires,  showing  that 
each  separate  group  —  officers,  soldiers,  and 
Indian  guides  —  had  a  separate  one.  Figures 
XI.  and  XII.  are  the  pictures  of  a  prairie-hen 
and  a  tortoise,  which  were  the  only  game  they 
had  been  able  to  kill  that  day.  The  pole  to 
which  the  piece  of  bark  was  fastened  leaned 
in  the  direction  which  the  party  was  going 
to  travel.  There  were  three  notches  in  the 
pole  to  show  the  distance  they  had  already 
journeyed. 

Yellow  Thunder  learns  to  read  these  bark 


44       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

pictures,  and  also  to  make  them  himself.  He 
enjoys  this  work  very  much,  and  can  tell  a 
long  story  quickly.  If  I  were  you,  I  would 
write  him  a  letter  and  ask  him  to  answer 
it  in  his  own  way. 

This  cousin  of  yours  has  many  things  to 
keep  him  busy.  I  have  already  told  you  of 
the  mats  and  baskets  which  he  helps  his 
mother  in  making.  He  goes  with  her  to  get 
the  bark  which  she  will  use  in  mending  the 
wigwam  and  making  many  useful  things. 

He  makes  barrels  out  of  red  elm  bark 
in  which  to  store  groundnuts,  corn,  and  beans. 
He  cuts  ladles  out  of  wood,  which  the  family 
will  use  in  eating  their  soup  and  hominy.  On 
the  end  of  each  ladle  Yellow  Thunder  carves 
the  figure  of  some  animal.  Perhaps  it  is  a 
beaver  or  a  squirrel.  He  does  it  very  neatly. 
Whatever  the  Indian  boy  does,  he  does  well. 

Yellow  Thunder  makes  sieve-baskets  out 
of  splint.     His  mother  can  sift  the  corn-meal 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       45 

through  one  of  these  as  nicely  as  your  mamma 
can  do  it  with  her  wire  sieve. 

He  makes  salt-bottles  out  of  corn-husks, 
wooden  bowls  and  pitchers,  and  many  other 
things  for  the  simple  housekeeping.  All  this 
work  is  done  during  the  cold  winter  months, 
while  his  mother  is  making  moccasins  and  kilts 
for  his  father  and  himself. 

When  spring  opens,  she  must  till  the  ground 
for  her  corn,  and  Yellow  Thunder  can  now  be 
of  great  help.  She  will  miss  him  greatly  when 
he  begins  to  hunt  with  his  father.  She  will 
then  have  all  this  work  to  do  alone. 

I  wish  you  could  see  the  Indian  woman's 
garden.  It  is  kept  so  carefully,  I  don't  be- 
lieve you  would  be  able  to  find  a  weed.  Yel- 
low Thunder's  mother  did  a  queer  thing  the 
first  night  after  it  was  planted.  She  stole  out 
of  the  wigwam  alone  into  the  darkness.  She 
went  behind  a  bush,  and  took  off"  all  her  cloth- 
ing.    Taking  her  skirt  in  her  hand,  she  ran 


46       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

swiftly  around  the  field  of  corn,  dragging  the 
garment  after  her.  She  believed  this  would 
keep  away  all  insects  which  might  destroy 
the  crop,  and  that  now  it  would  be  sure  to 
yield  well.  For  what  a  sad  thing  it  would 
be  if  winter  should  come  with  no  bread  to 
eat  through  the  long  months  ! 

Yellow  Thunder  is  very  fond  of  his  moth- 
er's corn  bread.  The  corn  is  first  hulled  by 
boiling  in  ashes  and  water.  The  tough  skin 
will  now  slip  off  easily.  After  being  washed 
and  dried,  it  is  pounded  in  a  mortar  into  flour. 
Then  it  is  sifted  and  made  into  cakes  about 
an  inch  thick.  These  cakes  are  dropped  into 
boiling  water,  and  are  quickly  made  ready  for 
our  red  cousin  to  eat.  Since  he  was  a  baby, 
he  has  lived  almost  entirely  on  corn  bread, 
together  with  the  game  and  fish  which  his 
father  brings   home. 

Yellow  Thunder  eats  something  on  his  corn 
cakes  which  you  like  as  much  as  he  does  him- 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       47 

self.  It  is  maple  syrup.  The  sugar  which  his 
mother  makes  from  it  is  the  only  kind  he  has 
ever  tasted  in  his  life.  It  is  his  work  to  tap 
the  trees  in  the  spring,  and  bring  home  the 
jars  of  sap,  which  his  mother  will  boil  down 
to  syrup  and  sugar. 

When  her  husband  goes  out  on  a  long  hunt, 
he  must  take  food  with  him,  as  it  may  be  a 
long  time  before  he  gets  any  game.  He  can- 
not carry  the  boiled  corn  cakes,  as  they  would 
soon  crumble  and  grow  sour.  His  good  wife 
roasts  some  corn  until  it  is  quite  dry.  She 
pounds  it  into  powder  and  mixes  it  with  maple 
sugar.  It  is  packed  away  in  Black  Cloud's 
bearskin  pocket.  He  need  not  worry  about 
hunger  now,  even  if  he  is  away  from  home 
many  days.  He  has  everything  he  needs  to 
keep  hunger  away. 

Yellow  Thunder  is  very  proud  of  the  beau- 
tiful canoe  he  has  just  finished.  He  had  to 
search  a  long  time  before  he  was  able  to  find 


48       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

a  tree  which  suited  him.  He  wanted  to  make 
his  canoe  of  birch  bark  because  it  is  much 
lighter  than  the  bark  of  the  elm- tree,  of  which 
his  father's  boat  is  made. 

He  needed  a  strip  at  least  twelve  feet  long, 
because  the  canoe  must  be  made  of  one  piece. 
Two  of  his  boy  friends  went  with  him  and  they 
at  last  obtained  a  strip  which  was  just  right. 
They  helped  him  bend  it  into  shape,  until  the 
side  pieces  came  together  in  two  pointed  ends. 
How  do  you  suppose  they  fastened  the  edges 
together  ?  They  made  thread  out  of  the  bark 
itself,  and  with  this  Yellow  Thunder  sewed 
the  pieces  together. 

He  next  got  strips  of  white  ash  for  the  rim 
of  his  canoe,  because  the  wood  of  that  tree 
is  very  elastic.  The  boat  must  be  made 
stronger  still  with  ribs  of  the  ash,  and  the 
work  is  done. 

The  canoe  is  a  little  beauty.  It  is  so  light 
that  the  red  boy  can  lift  it  out  of  the  water 


"  HE    SHOOTS    DOWN    THE    RIVER, 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       49 

and  carry  it  with  the  greatest  ease  from  place 
to  place.  I  wish  you  could  see  him  as  he 
shoots  down  the  river  in  his  boat.  He  moves 
so  rapidly,  he  will  be  out  of  sight  in  a  few 
minutes. 

The  Indians  of  the  northwestern  part  of 
our  country  used  to  make  their  canoes  of 
cedar  logs.  The  cedar  trees  there  grow  so 
large  that  canoes  eighty  feet  long,  and  large 
enough  to  hold  one  hundred  men,  were  made 
of  a  single  piece.  One  was  exhibited  at  the 
Columbian  Exposition  at  Chicago.  It  was 
twelve  feet  wide. 

Yellow  Thunder  has  taken  his  bow  and 
arrows  with  him  to-day,  as  he  may  come  upon 
a  flock  of  wild  ducks.  He  would  like  to  sur- 
prise his  mother  with  some  birds  for  supper. 

He  can  shoot  well.  He  will  not  fail  to 
secure  some  game.  He  has  practised  archery 
ever  since  he  was  a  tiny  little  fellow.  He 
would   feel    himself  disgraced  for  ever   if  he 


50       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

should  disappoint  his  father  when  they  go 
out  to  hunt. 

I  can't  tell  you  how  many  bows  and  arrows 
he  has  already  made  in  his  lifetime.  He  has 
now  grown  so  large  and  strong  that  he  uses  a 
bow  three  and  a  half  feet  long.  It  has  such 
a  difficult  spring  that  I  fear  you  could  not  bend 
it  far,  but  Yellow  Thunder  can  set  his  arrow 
to  the  head  with  ease.  But  it  takes  skill  and 
great  strength  to  do  it. 

Perhaps  you  wonder  why  the  arrow  is 
feathered  at  the  end.  This  will  make  it  go 
straight  ahead  in  the  direction  in  which  it  is 
sent.  Sometimes  Yellow  Thunder  uses  arrow- 
heads cut  out  of  flint.  They  are  dangerous 
things,  and  will  kill  deer  and  even  men. 
Indians  have  often  been  known  to  place  poi- 
son on  the  arrow-heads  they  used  in  warfare. 
The  agonies  of  the  men  who  were  shot  by 
them  were  terrible  indeed. 

Black  Cloud  has  not  been  to  war  since  Yel- 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       51 

low  Thunder  was  born.  There  are  so  few  of 
the  red  race  now,  and  the  numbers  of  the 
white  men  are  so  great,  that  there  is  not  much 
chance  of  warfare. 

However,  many  stories  are  told  in  Black 
Cloud's  lodge  of  the  good  old  days  when  the 
war-whoop  was  commonly  heard  and  the  toma- 
hawk and  scalping-knife  were  in  constant  use. 
Yellow  Thunder  often  passes  by  the  grave  of 
a  great  Indian  chief,  and  thinks  about  that 
hero's  bravery  in  battle.  This  grave  is  rever- 
ently marked  and  carefully  fenced  in.  The 
boy  wishes  he  had  a  chance  to  leave  such  a 
memory. 

At  the  head  of  the  grave  there  is  a  stick 
with  the  figure  of  a  wolf  carved  upon  it.  It  is 
the  symbol,  or  "  totem  "  of  the  chief's  tribe. 
Below  the  wolf  there  are  many  strokes  of  red 
paint,  which  Yellow  Thunder  likes  to  count, 
for  each  stroke  tells  of  a  scalp  taken  in  war- 
fare. 


52       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

Not  many  miles  up  the  river  above  Yellow 
Thunder's  home,  beavers  are  hunted.  Black 
Cloud  likes  to  catch  them,  because  their  flesh 
is  good  to  eat,  and  the  skin  is  covered  with 
fine  fur.  Last  winter  he  allowed  his  son  to 
go  with  himself  and  a  party  of  men  to  hunt 
for  this  clever  little  creature. 

Yellow  Thunder  believes  that  the  beavers 
were  once  people  and  able  to  speak  like  him- 
self. But  they  were  too  wise,  so  the  Great 
Spirit  took  away  this  power  and  changed  them 
into  these  animals. 

I  wonder  if  you  have  ever  seen  a  beaver's 
house.  He  usually  makes  it  of  the  young 
wood  of  birch  or  pine  trees,  and  builds  it  a 
short  way  out  in  the  river,  so  that  it  is 
surrounded  by  water.  He  shows  a  great 
deal  of  skill  in  making  his  home.  It  has 
a  roof  shaped  like  a  dome.  It  reaches 
three  or  four  feet  above  the  surface  of  the 
water. 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       53 

There  are  generally  only  two  young  beavers 
in  the  family.  The  first  year  they  live  with 
their  parents.  The  second  year  they  have  a 
room  built  next  to  the  main  house  for  their 
special  use.  By  this  time  they  are  old  enough 
to  help  their  father  and  mother  get  food. 
They  eat  great  quantities  of  roots  and  wood, 
but  they  like  the  wood  of  the  birch  and 
poplar  trees  best  of  all. 

When  the  young  beavers  are  two  years  old, 
they  leave  their  old  home,  and  choose  a  new 
place  in  which  to  build  houses  for  themselves, 
Once  in  a  great  while,  hunters  find  beavers 
that  the  Indians  call  "old  bachelors."  This 
is  because  they  live  alone,  build  no  houses, 
but  make  their  homes  in  holes  they  find, 
or  dig  out  for  themselves. 

The  beaver  always  makes  holes  in  the  banks 
of  the  river  near  his  house.  The  entrance  to 
such  a  hole  is  below  the  surface  of  the  water, 
so  that  if  the  beaver  is  attacked  in  his  house, 


54       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

he  can  flee  for  safety  to  his  hiding-place  in  the 
bank. 

Now  let  us  return  to  Yellow  Thunder  and 
his  beaver  hunt.  It  was  a  bitter  cold  day  and 
the  river  was  frozen  over  in  some  places,  but 
that  would  be  so  much  the  better  if  the  hunt- 
ers hoped  to  secure  their  game.  They  jour- 
neyed by  the  riverside  for  several  miles.  There 
was  a  heavy  fall  of  snow,  but  they  moved 
along  quickly  with  the  help  of  their  snow- 
shoes,  till  one  of  the  men  whispered :  "  I  see 
it.     Stop ! " 

Sure  enough !  A  few  feet  away  from  them 
and  from  the  bank  rose  the  roof  of  a  dam 
above  the  ice.  One  of  the  men  tried  the  ice 
and  found  it  was  thick  enough  to  bear  them. 

Yellow  Thunder  was  told  to  remain  where 
he  was  on  the  bank,  while  the  rest  of  the  party 
took  heavy  tools  in  their  hands  and  went  over 
to  the  beavers'  house.  They  quickly  destroyed 
it.     But  the  beavers?     What  had  become  of 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       55 

them  ?  They  did  not  stay  in  their  house  to 
have  it  broken  down  over  their  heads.  They 
were  too  wise.  When  the  first  alarm  was 
given,  they  hurried  through  the  water,  under 
the  icy  covering  of  the  river,  to  a  hiding-place 
in  the  bank.  They  had  made  it  long  ago  to 
be  ready  in  case  of  danger. 

Would  the  Indians  succeed  in  finding  them  ? 
Remember  that  nothing  could  be  seen  to  show 
where  the  beavers  had  gone.  The  hunters 
crept  along  the  ice  on  the  edges  of  the  river, 
and  kept  striking  it  with  their  mallets.  If 
they  should  hear  a  hollow  sound  as  they  struck 
the  ice,  they  would  know  they  had  discovered 
the  beavers'  hiding-place. 

Ah  !  sure  enough  !  It  is  Yellow  Thunder 
himself  who  says  :  "  Quick,  father,  come  here  ; 
I  have  found  it.  I  know  this  is  a  hole  be- 
cause of  the  noise  the  water  makes  underneath. 
Beavers  are  breathing  there,  or  it  would  not 
move  so  quickly." 


56       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

Black  Cloud  hurries  to  the  spot  and  the 
ice  is  cracked  in  an  instant.  Yes,  his  son  is 
right  A  family  of  beavers  is  inside  the  hole. 
They  must  be  taken  quickly,  or  they  will 
escape.  There  is  but  one  way  to  do  it.  The 
hunter  must  reach  his  hands  into  the  hole  and 
pull  the  animals  out.  Their  teeth  are  very 
sharp,  and  they  will  do  their  best  to  bite  him, 
but  Black  Cloud  does  not  think  of  that.  He 
is  quickly  at  work  and  pulls  out  one  after 
another. 

There  are  four  beavers  in  all,  —  two  old 
ones  and  their  young  about  two  years  of  age. 
They  are  soon  killed  and  ready  to  be  skinned. 
How  beautiful  and  glossy  the  fur  is  !  It  is  at 
its  very  best  in  midwinter. 

This  has  been  a  fine  day's  sport,  and  Black 
Cloud  has  received  only  one  bad  bite  in  his 
wrist.  It  must  cause  him  a  good  deal  of  pain, 
jet  he  does  not  show  that  he  feels  any.  He 
binds  up  his  wrist,  and  nothing  is  said  about  it. 


HIS    WIFE    IS    STANDING    IN    THE    DOOR    OF     THE    WIGWAM." 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       57 

When  they  reach  home  Yellow  Thunder's 
mamma  will  take  the  tails  of  the  beavers  and 
put  them  in  the  pot  to  boil.  The  Indians 
think  they  are  a  great  delicacy.  They  will 
make  a  feast,  to  which  Black  Cloud  has  gone 
to  invite  his  friends. 

His  wife  is  standing  in  the  door  of  the 
wigwam,  waiting  for  the  return  of  her  husband 
and  son.  She  has  dressed  herself  with  great 
care  to-day,  and  has  a  really  beautiful  costume. 
Just  imagine  your  mamma  in  a  dress  like  hers. 
She  wears  long  leggings  of  red  cloth  reach- 
ing from  above  her  knees  down  over  her  moc- 
casins. They  are  worked  with  beads  around 
the  edges. 

A  long  time  ago  the  Indian  women  made 
their  clothing  of  deerskins  and  embroidered 
them  with  porcupine  quills,  but  nowadays  they 
buy  cloth  and  beads  of  the  white  traders  in 
exchange  for  furs. 

Over  the  woman's  leggings  a  long  blue  skirt 


58       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

reaches  from  her  waist  nearly  to  the  ground. 
This,  also,  is  embroidered  with  beads  in  a 
flower  pattern.  And  last,  but  not  least,  she 
wears  a  bright  calico  overdress  which  reaches 
from  her  throat  to  a  short  distance  below  her 
waist,  is  also  beaded,  and  is  gathered  in 
at   the    belt. 

I  must  not  forget  to  mention  her  glass 
necklace,  large  silver  earrings,  and  the  shoulder 
ornaments  of  woven  grass  and  beadwork. 

She  is  a  graceful  woman,  and  it  is  pleasant 
to  look  at  her  with  the  sunset  light  upon  her 
black  hair  and  eyes. 

When  her  little  boy  was  six  years  old  he 
was  very  sick.  His  cheeks  burned  with  fever. 
He  could  not  lift  his  head  from  the  mat  on 
which  he  lay.  His  dear  mamma  scarcely  left 
his  side  through  the  long  hours  of  the  day. 
She  tried  to  soothe  him  with  low,  sweet  songs, 
but  it  was  in  vain.  The  fever  grew  stronger 
and  fiercer.     Black  Cloud  came  home  at  night. 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       59 

Looking  at  his  little  son,  he  said,  "  The  medi- 
cine-man must  come.     He  will  cure  him." 

The  medicine-man  was  at  once  sent  for. 
He  is  a  very  important  person  among  the 
Indians.  He  is  considered  very  wise.  He  is 
thought  to  have  wonderful  dreams  and  to  get 
instruction  from  the  Great  Spirit.  The  red 
people  think  he  can  cure  sickness,  unless  it  is 
the  will  of  the  Great  Spirit  for  the  patient 
to  die. 

The  medicine-man  always  carries  a  bag  of 
charms  to  help  him  in  making  his  cures.  I 
do  not  doubt  you  would  laugh  at  the  col- 
lection in  the  bag,  if  you  had  a  chance  to 
peep  in,  but  no  good  Indian  has  a  thought 
of  doing  such  a  thing.  It  is  believed  to  be 
holy,  and  nothing  inside  should  be  looked 
upon  except  as  the  medicine-man  draws  it 
out  to  work  his  cures. 

There  are  medicines,  the  carved  figures 
of   different    animals^    the    bones    of    others, 


60       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

and  I  don't  know  how  many  other  queer 
things. 

Poor  little  Yellow  Thunder  looked  up  with 
delight  as  the  great  man  entered  the  hut. 
He  believed  that  he  would  soon  be  well 
and   ready  to   work  and  play   once  more. 

The  medicine-man  ordered  first  that  a 
dog  be  sacrificed.  Next,  that  the  family  pre- 
pare a  great  feast  for  themselves.  These 
things  would  help  to  satisfy  the  Great  Spirit 
and  turn  away  his  anger.  But  this  was  not 
all.  He  took  out  a  rattle  from  his  bag. 
It  was  made  of  the  dried  hoofs  of  deer 
fastened  to  a  stick.  He  began  to  sing,  beat- 
ing time  with  his  rattle,  and  striking  himself 
violent  blows.  The  singing  grew  louder  and 
louder.     The  rattle  made  a  fearful  din. 

How  did  our  poor  sick  cousin  stand  it? 
I'm  sure  I  can't  tell.  The  little  fellow  lay 
with  closed  eyes  and  hardly  moved.  This 
queer  doctor  at  length  stopped  his  song  and 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       61 

got  ready  to  go  away.  He  told  Yellow 
Thunder's  papa  that  his  son  would  be  sure 
to  get  well.  And  you  know  already  from 
my  story  that  our  red  cousin  did  get  over 
his  sickness,  and  grew  to  be  a  big,  strong 
boy.  Whether  the  treatment  he  got  was 
any  help,  or  whether  Mother  Nature  did 
all  the  work,  I  leave  you  to  decide  for 
yourselves.  I  have  my  own  opinion  in  the 
matter. 

Yellow  Thunder  is  very  fond  of  music. 
I  wonder  what  he  would  think  of  a  church 
organ  or  grand  piano.  His  own  instruments 
are  very  simple.  He  made  them  himself. 
He  has  a  tambourine  on  which  he  often  plays 
in  the  evening  while  other  children  dance. 
He  cut  a  section  of  wood  from  a  hollow  tree 
and  stretched  a  skin  over  it,  and  his  instrument 
was  made= 

He  also  has  a  flute.  It  was  a  little  more 
work  for  the  red   boy   to   make   this.       He 


62       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

carved  two  pieces  of  cedar  in  the  shape  of 
half  cylinders,  and  fastened  them  together 
with  fish  glue.  He  next  hunted  about  in  the 
woods  for  a  snake.  After  he  had  found  one 
and  killed  it,  he  took  off  the  skin  and  stretched 
it  over  the  wood.  Eight  holes  were  then  made 
in  the  instrument,  as  well  as  a  mouthpiece  like 
that  of  a  flageolet. 

When  Yellow  Thunder  blows  upon  this 
flute,  it  makes  soft  and  sweet  music.  It  lay 
by  his  side  when  he  was  sick  with  the  fever, 
and  as  soon  as  he  was  strong  enough  to  sit  up, 
he  amused  himself  by  playing  some  simple 
tunes  his  mamma  had  taught  him. 

Our  little  friend  is  very  fond  of  dancing. 
His  people  have  so  many  dances  that  I  shall 
have  to  tell  you  about  some  of  them. 

They  believe  the  Great  Spirit  gave  them 
the  gift  of  dancing.  They  have  a  Dance 
for  the  Dead,  a  Medicine  Dance,  the  War- 
dance,  the    Dance   of  Honour,  and    I    don't 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       63 

know  how  many  others.  In  some  of  them 
only  men  take  part,  and  they  have  special  cos- 
tumes, while  in  others  there  are  none  but 
women.  It  seems  as  though  there  were 
always  something  happening  among  the 
Indians  to  give  them  a  good  reason  to 
dance. 

The  War-dance  is  only  performed  in  the 
evening  and  always  on  some  important  occa- 
sion. 

Fifteen  or  twenty  men  are  usually  chosen, 
one  of  whom  must  be  the  leader.  All  appear 
in  costume  and  wear  knee  rattles  of  deer's 
hoofs.  When  the  time  draws  near,  the  people 
gather  in  the  council-house  and  wait  quietly 
for  the  dancers  to  arrive.  A  keeper-of- 
the-faith  rises  and  makes  a  short  speech 
on  the  meaning  of  the  dance.  Hark !  The 
war-whoop  sounds  outside !  It  is  heard 
again,  and  still  again.  The  band  is  drawing 
near.     Ah !  here  they  come  at  last. 


64       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

To  our  eyes  they  look  hideous  in  their  war- 
paint and  feathers,  but  to  the  crowd  of  eager 
Indians  who  are  waiting,  they  appear  very  fair, 
indeed. 

They  march  in  and  form  a  circle.  The  war- 
whoop  is  sounded  again  by  the  leader,  and 
answered  by  the  rest  of  the  dancers.  At  a 
given  sign,  the  singers  commence  the  war- 
song,  the  drums  beat,  and  the  dancers  begin 
to  move.  They  come  down  on  their  heels 
again  and  again  with  the  greatest  force,  keep- 
ing time  to  the  beating  of  the  drums.  The 
knee  rattles  make  noise  enough  of  themselves. 
The  din  is  fearful. 

The  dancers  change  their  positions  continu- 
ally. At  the  same  moment  you  will  see  some 
of  them  with  their  arms  raised  as  though  to 
attack,  others  in  the  act  of  drawing  the  bow, 
others  again  appear  to  be  throwing  the  toma- 
hawk, or  striking  with  the  war-club.  Every 
position  possible  in  battle  is  taken. 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       65 

Each  one  is  full  of  the  excitement  of  the 
moment.  The  wild  music  and  dancing  last 
for  about  two  minutes.  For  the  next  two 
minutes  the  dancers  walk  around  in  a  circle  to 
the  slow  beating  of  the  drums.  Then  there 
is  another  war-whoop,  which  is  followed  by 
another  dance  and  song. 

The  dance  is  often  stopped  by  a  tap  upon 
the  ground  by  one  of  the  audience.  He 
wishes  to  make  a  short  speech.  It,  maybe, 
is  a  funny  one  to  make  everybody  laugh.  Or 
perhaps  the  speaker  wishes  to  inspire  the  peo- 
ple to  nobler  lives  or  to  greater  love  for  their 
race.  He  can  say  anything  he  chooses,  on 
condition  that  at  the  end  of  the  speech  he 
makes  a  present  to  one  of  the  dancers.  This 
speech  gives  the  dancers  a  chance  to  rest,  and 
at  the  same  time  keeps  the  people  interested. 

The  evening  is  full  of  entertainment,  and 
passes  only  too  quickly.  I'm  afraid,  how- 
ever, if  you  were  present  you  would  be  more 


66       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

frightened  than  amused  by  such  wild  music 
and  motions. 

Another  strange  dance  which  is  performed 
among  Yellow  Thunder's  people  is  called  the 
Dance  for  the  Dead.  Only  women  take  parf 
in  it.  It  is  generally  given  every  spring  and 
fall,  in  honour  of  those  of  the  tribe  who  have 
died.  The  Indians  believe  that  at  these  times 
their  dead  friends  come  back,  and  join  in  the 
dance. 

The  music  is  sad,  and  the  movements  of  the 
dancers  are  slow  and  mournful.  This  strange 
dance  is  kept  up  from  dusk  till  the  early 
morning.  It  is  believed  that  the  dead  friends 
who  have  been  present  must  then  go  back  to 
the  happy  hunting-grounds. 

I  haven't  said  very  much  as  yet  about  our 
red  cousin's  playmates  and  sports.  They  have 
many  good  times  together.  They  have  a  great 
number  of  games  and  many  matches  of  strength 
and  quickness. 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       67 

Yellow  Thunder  loves  his  ball  game  as  much 
as  you  boys  love  baseball.  He  and  his  friends 
often  prepare  for  a  game  by  a  special  diet  and 
training  for  days  beforehand.  Crowds  gather 
from  neighbouring  tribes  and  villages  to  see 
the  sport.  Those  who  take  part  wear  no 
clothing  except  a  waist-cloth.  The  ball  is 
small  and  is  made  of  deerskin. 

A  large  open  field  is  chosen,  and  two  gates 
are  made  on  opposite  sides  of  it.  Each  gate 
is  made  by  setting  two  poles  three  rods  apart. 
Six  or  eight  boys  play  on  a  side  and  own  one 
of  the  gates.  The  game  is  won  by  the  side 
which  first  carries  the  bail  through  its  own  gate 
a  certain  number  of  times.  The  white  men 
learned  this  game  from  the  Indians,  and  it  is 
a  great  favourite  with  them  in  some  parts  of 
the  country,  especially  in  Canada.  It  is  now 
called  "  lacrosse,"  but  its  name  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Iroquois  Indians  was  O-ta-da- 
jish-qua-age. 


68       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

Black  Cloud  has  as  much  interest  as  Yellow 
Thunder  in  the  game,  and  often  takes  part  in 
it  with  his  friends.  You  can  hardly  believe 
how  excited  these  red  men  get  when  they  are 
preparing  for  a  set  game  of  ball. 

The  javelin  game  is  another  of  the  boy's 
favourites.  It  is  quite  simple,  and  yet  one 
needs  to  be  very  skilful.  Rings  about  eight 
inches  across,  and  javelins  five  or  six  feet  long 
are  needed  in  playing  it.  While  a  ring  is  set 
rolling  upon  the  ground  by  one  person,  a 
player  on  the  other  side  throws  the  javelin 
and  tries  to  hit  it.  If  he  succeed,  the  ring 
is  set  up  as  a  target,  and  each  one  on  the 
opposite  side  must  throw  a  javelin  and  try  to 
hit  it.  If  he  fail,  he  loses  his  javelin.  Vic- 
tory belongs  to  the  side  which  wins  the  most 
javelins. 

The  favourite  game  in  winter  is  that  of 
snow  snakes.  The  snakes  are  made  of  hick- 
ory.    They  are  from  five  to  seven  feet  long. 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       69 

The  head  of  the  snake  is  round  and  pointed 
with  lead.  It  is  about  an  inch  wide  and 
slightly  turned  up.  The  snake  is  made  so 
that  it  tapers  toward  the  tail,  which  is  only 
about  half  an  inch  wide. 

Yellow  Thunder  has  practised  so  much  that 
he  can  throw  his  snake  with  great  skill.  It 
skims  along  the  snow  crust  like  an  arrow.  He 
has  won  many  a  game  this  winter  and  his 
father  is  very  proud  of  him,  because  it  takes 
a  great  deal  of  strength  and  training  to  be  a 
good  player. 

There  are  many  other  games  played  by  the 
Indian  men  and  boys,  but  I  shall  have  to  tell 
you  about  them  some  other  time. 

I  hear  one  of  my  little  friends  say :  "  I 
wonder  if  my  red  cousin  has  any  holidays. 
He  certainly  cannot  understand  the  glorious 
Fourth,  and  I  don't  believe  he  ever  heard  of 
Christmas.     How  does  he  get  along  ?  " 

Why,  my  dear  children,  I  can't  stop  to  tell 


70       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

you  of  all  the  feasts  and  festivals  to  which  the 
boy  is  invited.  On  every  possible  occasion  a 
feast  is  given  by  some  one  in  the  village.  For 
instance,  if  the  men  are  very  successful  in  one 
of  their  hunts,  and  come  home  laden  down 
with  a  good  supply  of  deer,  raccoon,  or  bear, 
some  one  of  them  prepares  a  feast. 

How  you  would  laugh  to  see  them  gather- 
ing at  a  party.  Each  one  carries  his  own 
wooden  bowl  and  plate,  for  that  is  the  cus- 
tom. I  mean  that  each  man  does  this,  for  the 
women  are  not  expected  to  sit  down.  They 
only  stand  around  and  laugh  at  the  bright 
sayings  they  hear.  They  must  not  even  join 
in  the  conversation.  They  seem  to  think 
that  they  are  having  a  good  time,  however, 
and  when  the  feast  is  over  go  back  to  their 
own  wigwams,  repeating  to  each  other  the 
good  things  they  have  heard.  The  men  re- 
main to  smoke  and  tell  more  stories. 

Sometimes  a  feast  is   prepared  on  purpose 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       71 

for  the  young  people.  At  such  a  time  some 
one  who  is  much  older  than  themselves  makes 
a  speech.  He  encourages  his  young  friends 
to  be  nobler,  braver,  and  better  than  ever 
before.  It  seems  as  though  Yellow  Thunder 
could  never  forget  the  good  words  he  has 
heard  at  these  feasts.  Whenever  he  feels  like 
showing  pain  or  being  ill-tempered,  he  recol- 
lects them,  and  they  help  to  keep  him  calm. 

Each  season  of  the  year  has  its  special  fes- 
tival. The  longest  of  all  is  the  new  year  jubi- 
lee, which  lasts  seven  days.  It  takes  place  in 
the  middle  of  the  winter,  about  the  first  of 
February.  Several  days  before  the  beginning 
of  the  celebration,  our  little  cousin  gathers  with 
his  people  in  the  council-hall.  They  must 
confess  their  sins  to  each  other  before  the 
new  year  opens.  Yellow  Thunder  thinks  over 
everything  which  he  has  done,  or  not  done 
as  he  ought,  during  the  past  year.  He  does 
not  wish  to  forget  anything. 


72       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

When  the  great  day  arrives,  two  keepers-of- 
the-faith  come  to  his  home  early  in  the  morn- 
ing. It  is  their  duty  to  go  to  every  other 
wigwam,  too.  They  are  dressed  up  in  such 
a  way  that  Ytllow  Thunder  cannot  tell  who 
they  are.  Thev  wear  bear  or  buffalo  skins 
wrapped  around  their  bodies,  and  fastened 
about  their  heads  with  wreaths  of  corn  husks. 
They  also  wear  wreaths  of  corn  husks  around 
their  arms  and  ankles.  Their  faces  are  painted 
in  all  sorts  of  queer  ways.  They  carry  corn 
pounders  in  their  hands. 

As  they  enter  the  hut,  they  bow  to  the 
family,  and  one  of  them  strikes  the  ground 
with  his  corn  pounder.  When  every  one  is 
silent,  he  makes  a  speech,  urging  them  to 
clean  their  house,  put  everything  in  order, 
and  prepare  for  the  festivities  of  the  next  few 
days.  If  any  one  in  the  family  should  be 
taken  sick  and  die,  he  urges  them  not  to 
mourn    till    the  ceremonies  which    the    Great 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       73 

Spirit  has  commanded  are  over.  You  can  see 
from  this  that  the  Indian's  religion  is  carried 
into  everything  he  does. 

After  a  song  of  thanksgiving,  the  keepers- 
of-the-faith  leave  Yellow  Thunder's  home  and 
pass  on  to  the  next  one.  In  the  afternoon 
they  come  back  again,  and  urge  the  family 
to  give  thanks  to  the  Great  Spirit  for  the 
return  of  the  season. 

The  little  boy  is  most  excited  on  this  first 
day  of  the  festival  by  the  strangling  of  the 
White  Dog.  It  must  be  spotless,  if  possible. 
White  is  the  emblem  of  purity  and  faith.  A 
white  deer  or  squirrel,  or  any  other  animal 
that  is  pure  white,  is  thought  to  be  sacred  to 
the  Great  Spirit. 

The  dog,  which  has  been  carefully  kept  for 
this  purpose,  is  killed  with  the  greatest  care. 
Otherwise  it  would  not  be  a  fitting  sacrifice. 
Not  a  drop  of  blood  must  be  shed.  Not  a 
bone  must  be  broken.     When  it  is  quite  dead, 


74       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

it  is  trimmed  with  ribbons  and  feathers,  and 
spotted  in  different  places  with  dabs  of  red 
paint.  Then  it  is  hung  up  by  its  neck  on 
a  pole.  It  must  stay  there  till  the  fifth  day. 
At  that  time  it  will  be  taken  down  to  be 
burned. 

On  the  second  day,  Yellow  Thunder  is 
dressed  up  in  his  very  best,  and  goes  out 
with  his  father  and  mother  to  make  calls  on 
his  neighbours.  The  keepers-of-the-faith  come 
to  his  house  three  times  during  the  day.  They 
are  now  dressed  up  as  warriors  with  all  their 
war-paint  and  feathers.  One  of  them  stirs  up 
the  ashes  in  the  fireplace  and  sprinkles  them 
about.  As  he  does  this,  he  makes  a  speech, 
thanking  the  Great  Spirit  that  the  family,  as 
well  as  himself,  have  been  allowed  to  live 
another  year  to  take  part  in  the  festival. 
There  is  another  song  of  thanksgiving  and 
they  go  away. 

On  the  third  and  fourth  days  small  dancing 


*e  THEY    .     .     .     DANCED    IN    EVERY    HUT    IN    THE    VILLAGE.** 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       75 

parties  go  from  home  to  home.  One  party 
will  perform  the  war-dance,  another  the  feather- 
dance,  still  another  the  fish-dance,  and  so  on. 
This  year  Yellow  Thunder's  father  let  him 
join  a  party  of  boys  to  give  the  war-dance. 
They  had  great  fun  dressing  up  as  warriors 
and  decking  themselves  with  paint  and  feath- 
ers. They  went  from  home  to  home  till  they 
had  danced  in  every  hut  in  the  village.  They 
were  tired  enough  to  sleep  soundly  when  night 
came. 

I  must  tell  you  of  some  more  sport  they 
had  during  the  festival.  Some  of  the  boys 
dressed  in  rags  and  paint,  put  on  false  faces 
and  formed  a  "  thieving  party,"  as  it  was 
called.  They  went  about  collecting  things  for 
a  feast.  An  old  woman  carrying  a  large 
basket  went  with  them.  If  the  family  they 
visited  made  them  presents,  they  handed  them 
to  the  old  woman  and  gave  a  dance  in  return 
for  the    kindness.     But   if  no  presents   were 


76       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

given,  they  took  anything  they  could  seize 
without  being  seen.  If  they  were  discovered, 
they  gave  them  up,  but  if  not,  it  was  con- 
sidered fair  for  them  to  carry  the  things 
away  for  their  feast. 

Yellow  Thunder  had  great  fun  hiding  the 
stolen  articles  in  his  clothing.  He  was  not 
once  caught. 

Every  night  was  given  up  to  dancing  and 
other  entertainments.  Our  Indian  cousin  got 
time  for  a  game  of  snow  snakes  nearly  every 
day. 

On  the  morning  of  the  fifth  dav  the  White 
Dog  was  burned.  A  procession  was  formed, 
the  men  marching  in  Indian  file.  Listen  !  A 
great  sound  is  heard.  It  is  something  like  the 
war-whoop.  It  is  the  signal  to  start.  The 
dead  dog  is  carried  to  the  altar  on  a  bark  litter 
in  front  of  the  procession.  The  sacrifice  is 
laid  upon  the  altar.  The  fire  is  kindled.  As 
the  flames  rise,  a  prayer  is  made  to  the  Great 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       77 

Spirit  for  all  his  good  gifts  to  the  Indians. 
The  trees  and  the  bushes,  the  sun  and  the 
winds,  the  moon  and  the  stars,  —  none  are 
forgotten  that  have  helped  to  make  the  world 
better  to  live  in. 

As  the  sacrifice  burns  upon  the  altar,  Yel- 
low Thunder  listens  to  the  long  prayer  with 
reverence.  He  believes  that  the  dog's  soul  is 
now  rising  to  the  Great  Spirit.  It  will  be  a 
proof  to  Him  of  the  faith  of  His  people,  for 
the  day  itself  is  the  day  of  faith  and  trust. 

During  the  rest  of  the  festival  there  is  more 
dancing  and  more  feasting,  while  favourite 
games  are  played  by  old  and  young. 

"  Oh,  what  a  good  time  it  is,"  thinks  Yel- 
low Thunder ;  "  how  happy  we  all  should  be 
that  the  new  year  has  come."  And  what  a 
tired  boy  sleeps  on  Yellow  Thunder's  mat 
when  the  seven  days  of  this  glorious  time  are 
over.  The  Fourth  of  July  celebration  is 
slight  indeed  compared  with  it. 


78       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

Yellow  Thunder  begins  already  to  look  for- 
ward to  the  first  festival  of  the  springtime.  It 
is  called  by  the  Indians  "  Thanks  to  the 
Ma(  le."  I  don't  dare  to  give  it  to  you  in 
their  own  language.  You  would  only  scowl 
and  say,  "  Oh,  dear  S  what's  the  use  ?  I  can't 
pronounce  those  long  words,  and  I  will  noi 
try." 

Just  as  soon  as  the  first  warm  days  arrive, 
the  red  boy's  eyes  begin  to  watch  the  maple- 
trees.  He  wishes  to  be  the  first  one  to  dis- 
cover that  the  sap  has  started  and  is  beginning 
to  flow.  Then  hurrah  for  a  holiday  for  old 
and  young !  Thanks  must  be  given  to  the 
tree  that  gives  so  much  sweetness  to  boys 
and  girls.  The  Great  Spirit  must  be  thanked, 
also,  for  he  gave  the  maple  to  the  poor 
Indian. 

There  must  be  more  feasting  and  story- 
telling, more  games  and  dancing.  Tobacco 
must  be  burned  as  an  offering  to  the  Great 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       79 

Spirit,  and  prayers  must  be  said.  The  great 
feather  dance  will  be  the  best  thing  of  all.  It 
is  very  graceful  and  beautiful,  and  the  band  of 
dancers  will  wear  costumes  which  belong  only 
to  this  dance. 

You  certainly  cannot  wonder  that  Yellow 
Thunder  enjoys  this  festival.  I  don't  doubt 
you  would  like  to  be  there,  also,  as  well  as  at 
the  green  corn  feast,  and  many  others. 

At  these  times  your  red  cousin's  heart  is 
full  of  gladness  and  gratitude  for  the  great 
gifts  the  Great  Spirit  has  given  him. 

It  is  evening  time.  Let  us  creep  up  softly 
behind  him  as  he  listens  to  a  legend  one  of 
the  story-tellers  of  the  tribe  is  repeating.  It 
is  the  tale  of  the  Lone  Lightning. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  poor  little 
boy  who  had  no  father  or  mother.  He  lived 
with  an  uncle  who  did  not  love  him.  This 
cruel  man  made  the  child  do  many  hard 
things  and  did  not  give  him  enough  to  eat 


80       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

Of  course  the  child  did  not  grow  properly. 
He  was  very  thin  and  pitiful  to  look  upon. 
After  awhile  the  cruel  uncle  grew  ashamed  of 
the  appearance  of  the  boy.  Every  one  could 
see  that  he  was  ill-treated. 

He  said  to  himself,  "I  will  give  the  child  so 
much  to  eat  that  he  will  die.  I  hate  him  !  " 
Then  he  went  to  his  wife  and  said,  "  Give  the 
boy  bear's  meat,  and  choose  the  fat  of  it 
for  him." 

They  kept  cramming  the  child.  When 
they  were  stuffing  the  food  down  his  throat 
one  day,  he  almost  choked.  Poor  little  fellow! 
There  was  no  one  who  cared  for  him  or 
wished  him  to  live.  He  knew  it  only  too 
well. 

The  first  chance  he  obtained,  he  ran  away. 
He  did  not  know  where  to  go,  but  wandered 
around  in  the  forest.  Night  came.  Wild 
beasts  would  now  begin  to  roam  about.  They 
would  get  him  and  eat  him.     The  little  boy 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       81 

was  afraid  when  he  thought  of  all  this.  He 
climbed  up  in  a  tree  as  far  as  he  dared, 
and  went  to  sleep  in  a  fork  of  the  branches. 
He  had  a  wonderful  dream.  It  was  an  omen 
given  to  him  by  the  spirits. 

It  seemed  as  though  some  one  appeared 
to  him  from  out  of  the  sky.  He  spoke  to 
the  orphan.,  and  said,  "  Poor  child,  I  know  all 
about  your  hard  life  and  your  cruel  uncle. 
Come  with  me." 

The  boy  awoke  instantly.  There  was  his 
guide.  He  began  to  follow  him.  Higher 
and  higher  he  rose  up  in  the  air  till  they  were 
both  in  the  upper  sky.  Then  his  guide  placed 
twelve  arrows  in  his  hands  and  told  him  that 
there  were  many  bad  manitos  (spirits)  in  the 
northern  sky.  He  must  go  forth  and  try  to 
shoot  them. 

He  did  as  he  was  told.  He  travelled  toward 
the  north  and  shot  one  arrow  after  another, 
vainly  trying  to  kill  the  manitos.      He  now 


82       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 

had  only  one  arrow  left.  As  each  one  had 
sped  forth  from  his  bow,  there  had  been  a 
long  streak  of  lightning  in  the  sky.  Then  all 
had  grown  clear  again. 

The  boy  held  the  last  arrow  in  his  hand  for 
a  long  time  and  tried  again  to  discover  the 
manitos.  But  these  beings  are  very  cunning 
if  they  choose,  and  they  can  change  their  forms 
at  any  moment.  They  were  afraid  of  the 
boy's  arrows,  for  they  had  magic  powers  and 
had  been  given  him  by  a  good  spirit.  If  the 
child  aimed  them  straight,  the  bad  manitos 
would  be  killed. 

At  length  the  boy  gained  courage  and  shot 
his  last  arrow.  He  thought  it  was  aimed  at 
the  very  heart  of  the  chief  of  the  spirits.  But 
before  it  reached  him,  he  had  changed  himself 
into  a  rock.  The  head  of  the  arrow  pierced 
this  rock  and  fastened  itself  within  it. 

The  manito  was  enraged.  He  cried  out, 
"Your  arrows  are  gone  now.     You  shall  be 


Our  Little  Indian  Cousin       83 

punished  for  daring  to  strike  at  me."  As  he 
said  these  words,  he  changed  the  boy  into  the 
Lone  Lightning,  which  is  still  seen  in  the 
northern  sky  to  this  day. 


THE   END. 


BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE 

THE  LITTLE  COLONEL  BOOKS 

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THE  LITTLE  COLONEL 

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TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY 
THE  GIANT  SCISSORS 
BIG  BROTHER 

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IN  THE  DESERT  OF  WAITING:  The  Legend  o» 
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THE  THREE  WEAVERS:  A  Fairy  Tale  for 
Fathers  and  Mothers  as  Well  as  for  Their 
Daughters. 

KEEPING  TRYST 

THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  BLEEDING  HEART 

THE  RESCUE  OF  PRINCESS  WINSOME:     A 

Fairy  Play  for  Old  and  Young. 

THE  JESTER'S  SWORD 

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Paper  boards .35 

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JOEL :    A  BOY  OF  GALILEE :  By  Annie  Fellows 
Johnston.     Illustrated  by  L.  J.  Bridgman. 
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A  story  of  the  time  of  Christ,  which  is  one  of  the  author's 

best-known  books. 

A— 2 


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THE  LITTLE  COLONEL  GOOD  TIMES  BOOK 

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The  publishers  have  had  many  inquiries  from  readers 
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ton, who  has  for  years  kept  such  a  book  herself,  has  gone 
enthusiastically  into  the  matter  of  the  material  and  format 
for  a  similar  book  for  her  young  readers.     Every  girl  will 
want  to  possess  a  "  Good  Times  Book." 
ASA  HOLMES:  Or,  At  the  Choss-Roads.    A  sketch 
of  Country   Life   and   Country  Humor.    By  Annie 
Fellows  Johnston. 
With  a  frontispiece  by  Ernest  Fosbery. 

Large  16mo,  cloth,  gilt  top $1.00 

"  '  Asa  Holmes;   or,  At  the  Cross-Roads '  is  the  most 
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Henry  Burns.    By  Ruel  Perley  Smith. 
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island  off  the  Maine  coast. 

THE   RIVAL   CAMPERS   AFLOAT:      Or,  The 
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THE  RIVAL  CAMPERS  ASHORE 
By  Ruel  Perley  Smith. 

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JACK   HARVEY'S   ADVENTURES:      Or,  The 

Rival  Campers  Among  the  Oyster  Pirates.     By 

Ruel  Perley  Smith.    Illustrated      .       .        .      $1.50 

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A— 3 


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PRISONERS  OF  FORTUNE:    A  Tale  of  the  Mas- 
sachusetts Bay  Colony.    By  Rtjel  Perley  Smith. 
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"  There  is  an  atmosphere  of  old  New  England  in  the 
book,  the  vumor  of  the  born  raconteur  about  the  hero, 
who  tells  his  story  with  the  gravity  of  a  preacher,  but  with 
a  solemn  humor  that  is  irresistible."  —  Courier- Journal. 

FAMOUS  CAVALRY  LEADERS.  By  Charles  H. 

L.  Johnston. 

Large  12mo.    With  24  illustrations     .       .       .      SI. 50 

Biographical  sketches,  with  interesting  anecdotes  and 
reminiscences  of  the  heroes  of  history  who  were  leaders 
of  cavalry. 

"  More  of  such  books  should  be  written,  books  that 
acquaint  young  readers  with  historical  personages  in  a 
pleasant  informal  way."  —  N.  Y.  Sun. 

FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS.       By  Charles  H.  L. 
Johnston. 

Large  12mo,  illustrated         .  .       .  $1.50 

In  this  book  Mr.  Johnston  gives  interesting  sketches  of 
the  Indian  braves  who  have  figured  with  prominence  in 
the  history  of  our  own  land,  including  Powhatan,  the 
Indian  Caesar;  Massasoit,  the  friend  of  the  Puritans; 
Pontiac,  the  red  Napoleon;  Tecumseh,  the  famous  war 
chief  of  the  Shawnees;  Sitting  Bull,  the  famous  war  chief 
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out  to  take  care  of  himself. 

TENANTS    OF    THE    TREES.      By    Clarence 
Hawkes. 

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A— 4 


'BOOKS  FOR    YOUNG  PEOPLE 


BEAUTIFUL  JOE'S  PARADISE:  Or,  The  Island 
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tally.   It  is  fairly  riotous  with  fun,  and  is  about  as  unusual 
as  anything  in  the  animal  book  line  that  has  seen  the  light." 
—  Philadelphia  Item. 

'TILDA  JANE.     Ey  Marshall  Saunders. 
One  vol.,  12mo,  fully  illustrated,  cloth  decorative,  $1.50 
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this.     I  commend  it  unreservedly."  —  Cyrus  Towneend 

Brady. 

'TILDA  JANE'S  ORPHANS.     A  sequel  to  'Tilda 
Jane.    By  Marshall  Saunders. 

One  vol.,  12mo,  fully  illustrated,  cloth  decorative,  $1.50 
'Tilda  Jane  is  the  same  original,  delightful  girl,  and  as 

fond  of  her  animal  pets  as  ever. 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  GRAVELEYS.    By  Mah- 

SHALL   Saunders,   author  of   "  Beautiful  Joe's  Para- 
dise," "  'Tilda  Jane,"  etc. 
Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative.    Illustrated  by  E.  B. 

Barry $1.50 

Here  we  have  the  haps  and  mishaps,  the  trials  and 
triumphs,  of  a  delightful  New  England  family,  of  whose 
devotion  and  sturdiness  it  will  do  the  reader  good  to  hear. 

BORN  TO  THE  BLUE.     By    Florence    Kimball 
Russel. 

12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  .  .  .  $1.25 
The  atmosphere  of  army  life  on  the  plains  breathes  on 
every  page  of  this  delightful  tale.  The  boy  is  the  son  of  a 
captain  of  U.  S.  cavalry  stationed  at  a  frontier  post  in  the 
days  when  our  regulars  earned  the  gratitude  of  a  nation. 
A— 5 


Z.   C.  PAGE  &>  COMPANY^ 


m  WEST  POINT  GRAY 

By  Florence  Kimball  Russel. 

12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  .  <  .  $1.50 
"  Singularly  enough  one  of  the  best  books  of  -he  year 
for  boys  is  written  by  a  woman  and  deals  with  lif  at  West 
Point.  The  presentment  of  life  in  the  famous  militarr 
academy  whence  so  many  heroes  have  graduated  is  realistic 
and  enjoyable."  —  New  York  Sun. 

FROM  CHEVRONS  TO  SHOULDER  STRAPS 

By  Florence  Kimeall  Russel. 

12mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  decorative     .        .        .      $1.50 

West  Point  again  forms  the  background  of  a  new  volume 

in  this  popular  series,  and  relates  the  experience  of  Jack 

Stirling  during  his  junior  and  senior  years. 

THE  SANDMAN:  HIS  FARM  STORIES 

By  William  J.  Hopkins.    With  fifty  illustrations  by 

Ada  Clendenin  Williamson. 

Large  12mo,  decorative  cover       .        .        .        .      $1.50 

"  An  amusing,  original  book,  written  for  the  benefit  of 
very  small  children.  It  should  be  one  of  the  most  popular 
of  the  year's  books  for  reading  to  small  children."  — 
Buffalo  Express. 

THE  SANDMAN:  MORE  FARM  STORIES 

By  William  J.  Hopkins. 

Large  12mo,  decorative  cover,  fully  illustrated    $1.50 

Mr.  Hopkins's  first  essay  at  bedtime  stories  met  with 

such^approval  that  this  second  book  of  "  Sandman  "  tales 

was  issued  for  scores  of  eager  children.    Life  on  the  farm, 

and  out-of-doors,  is  portrayed  in  his  inimitable  manner. 

THE  SANDMAN:  HIS  SHIP  STORIES 

By  William  J.  Hopkins,  author  of  "  The  Sandman: 
His  Farm  Stories,"  etc. 

Large  12mo,  decorative  cover,  fully  illustrated    $1.50 
"  Children  call  for  these  stories  over  and  over  ajgain."  — - 
Chicago  Evening  Post. 

A-0 


BOOKS  FOR    YOUNG  PEOPLE 

THE  SANDMAN,  HIS  SEA  STORIES 

By  William  J.  Hopkins. 

Large  12mo,  decorative  cover,  fully  illustrated     $1.50 

Each  year  adds  to  the  popularity  of  this  unique  series 

of  stories  to  be  read  to  the  little  ones  at  bed  time  and  at 

other  times. 

THE  DOCTOR'S  LITTLE  GIRL 

By  Marion  Ames  Taggart,  author  of    "  Pussy-Cafc 

Town,"  etc. 

One  vol.,  library  12mo,  illustrated       .       .       .      $1.50 

A  thoroughly  enjoyable  tale  of  a  little  girkand  her  com- 
rade father,  written  in  a  delightful  vein  of  sympathetic 
comprehension  of  the  child's  point  of  view. 

SWEET  NANCY 

The  Further  Adventures  op  the  Doctor's  Littlb 

Girl.    By  Marion  Ames  Taggart. 

One  vol.,  library,  12mo,  illustrated       .        .        .      $1.50 

In  the  new  book,  the  author  tells  how  Nancy  becomes 
in  fact  "  the  doctor's  assistant,"  andcontinues  to  shed 
happiness  around  her. 

THE  CHRISTMAS-MAKERS'  CLUB 

By  Edith  A.  Sawyer. 

12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated       .        .        .      $1.50 

A  delightful  story  for  girls,  full  of  the  real  spirit  of 

Christmas.     It  abounds  in  merrymaking  and  the  right 

kind  of  fun. 

CARLOTA 

A  Story  of  the  San  Gabriel  Mission.  By  Frances 
Margaret  Fox. 

Square  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  and  decorated 
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"  It  is  a  pleasure  to  recommend  this  little  story  as  an 

entertaining  contribution  to  juvenile  literature."  —  The 

New  York  Sun. 

THE  SEVEN  CHRISTMAS  CANDLES 
By  Frances  Margaret  Fox. 

Square  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  and  deco- 
rated in  colors  by  Ethelind  Ridgway  $1.00 
Miss  Fox's  new  book  deals  with  the  fortunes  of  the  do* 

lightful  Mulvaney  children. 

A— 7 


Z.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY'S 


PUSSY-CAT  TOWN 

By  Marion  Ames  Taggart. 

Small  quarto,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  and  dewv 

rated  in  colors $1.00 

"  Anything  more  interesting  than  the  doings  of  the  cats 
in  this  story,  their  humor,  their  wisdom,  their  patriotism, 
would  be  hard  to  imagine."  —  Chicago  Post. 

THE  ROSES  OF  SAINT  ELIZABETH 

By  Jane  Scott  Woodruff. 

Small  quarto,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  and  decorated 
in  colors  by  Adelaide  Everhart  $J  .00 

This  is  a  charming  little  story  of  a  child  whose  father  was 

caretaker  of  the  great  castle  of  the  Wartburg,  where  Saint 

Elizabeth  once  had  her  home. 

GABRIEL  AND  THE  HOUR  BOOK 

By  Evaleen  Stein. 

Small  quarto,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  and  deco- 
rated in  colors  by  Adelaide  Everhart     .        .        .    $1.00 
Gabriel  was  a  loving,  patient,  little  French  lad,  who 
assisted  the  monks  in  the  long  ago  days,  when  all  the  books 
were  written  and  illuminated  by  hand,  in  the  monasteries. 

THE  ENCHANTED  AUTOMOBILE 

Translated  from  the  French  by  Mart  J.  Safford 
Small  quarto,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  and  deco- 
rated in  colors  by  Edna  M.  Sawyer       .        .        .      $1.00 
"  An  up-to-date  French  fairy-tale  which  fairly  radiates 

the  spirit  of  the  hour,  —  unceasing  diligence."  —  Chicago 

Record-Herald. 

O-HEART-SAN 

The  Story  of  a  Japanese  Girl.    By  Helen  Egolbs- 
ton  Haskell. 

Small  quarto,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  and  deco- 
rated in  colors  by  Frank  P.  Fairbanks       .  $1.00 
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The  shadow  of  Fujiyama  lies   across  it  and  from  e very- 
page  breathes  the  fragrance  of  tea  leaves,  cherry  blossoms 
and  chrysanthemums."  —  ^Se  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

A-8 


BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE 


THE  YOUNG  SECTION-HAND:  Or,  TheAdvew- 

tures  of  Allan  West.    |By  Burton  E.  Stevenson. 
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Mr.  Stevenson's  hero  is  a  manly  lad  of  sixteen,  who  ia 
given  a  chance  as  a  section-hand  on  a  big  Western  rail- 
road, and  whose  experiences  are  as  real  as  they  are  thrilling. 

THE  YOUNG  TRAIN  DISPATCHER.  By  Bur- 
ton E.  Stevenson. 

Square  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated         .      $1.50 
"  A  better  book  for  boys  has  never  left  an  American 

press."  —  Springfield  Union. 

THE  YOUNG  TRAIN  MASTER.    By  Burton  E. 

Stevenson. 

Square  12mo,  cloth   decorative,  illustrated       .    $1.50 
"  Nothing  better  in  the  way  of  a  book  of  adventure  for 
boys  in  which  the  actualities  of  life  are  set  forth  in  a  practi- 
cal way  could  be  devised  or  written."  —  Boston  Herald. 

CAPTAIN  JACK  LORIMER.  By  Winn  Standish. 
Square  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  .  $1.50 
Jack  is  a  fine  example  of  the  all-around  American  hjgh- 

echool  boy. 

JACK  LORIMER'S  CHAMPIONS:  Or,  Sports  on 
Land  and  Lake.    By  Winn  Standish. 
Square  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated       .      $1.50 
"  It  is  exactly  the  sort  of  book  to  give  a  boy  interested 

in  athletics,  for  it  shows  him  what  it  means  to  always 

'  play  fair.' "  —  Chicago  Tribune. 

JACK  LORIMER'S  HOLIDAYS:  Or,  Millvale 
High  in  Camp.   By  Winn  Standish. 

Illustrated $1.50 

Full  of  just  the  kind  of  fun,  sports  and  adventure  to 

excite  the  healthy  minded  youngster  to  emulation. 

JACK  LORIMER'S  SUBSTITUTE :  Or,  The  Act- 
ing: Captain  op  the  Team.    By  Winn  Standish. 

Illustrated $1.50 

On  the  sporting  side,  this  book  takes  up  football,  wres- 
tling, tobogganing,  but  it  is  more  of  a  scfcow  story  perhaps 
than  any  of  its  predecessors. 


I.  C.  PAGE  A*  COMPANY'S 


CAPTAIN  JINKS:   The  Autobiography  of  a  Shet- 
land Pont.     By  Frances  Hodges  White. 
Cloth  decorative,  illustrated         ....      $1.50 
The  story  of  Captain  Jinks  and  his  faithful  dog  friend 
Billy,    their    quaint    conversations    and    their    exciting 
adventures,  will  be  eagerly  read  by  thousands  of  boys  and 
girls.    The  story  is  beautifully  written  and  will  take  its 
place  alongside  of  "  Black  Beauty  "  and  "  Beautiful  Joe." 

THE  RED  FEATHERS.  By  Theodore  Roberts. 
Cloth  decorative,  illustrated         .       .       .  $1.50 

"  The  Red  Feathers  "  tells  of  the  remarkable  adventures 

of  an  Indian  boy  who  lived  in  the  Stone  Age,  many  years 

ago,  when  the  world  was  young. 

FLYING   PLOVER.     By  Theodore  Roberts. 

Cloth  decorative.     Illustrated  by  Charles  Livingston 

Bull $1.00 

Squat-By-The-Fire  is  a  very  old  and  wise  Indian  who 

lives  alone  with  her  grandson,  "  Flying  Plover,"  to  whom 

she  tells  the  stories  each  evening. 

THE  WRECK   OF  THE  OCEAN  QUEEN.    By 

James  Otis,  author  of  "  Larry  Hudson's  Ambition,"  etc. 
Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  .       .        .       .      $1.50 

"  A  stirriDg  story  of  wreck  and  mutiny,  which  boys  will 
find  especially  absorbing.  The  many  young  admirers  of 
James  Otis  will  not  let  this  book  escape  them,  for  it  fully 
equals  its  many  predecessors  in  excitement  and  sustained 
interest."  —  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

LITTLE  WHITE  INDIANS.      By  Fannie  E.  Os- 

trander. 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  .        .        •      ,-      *    , 

"  A  bright,  interesting  story  which  will  appeal  strongly 
to  the  '  make-believe '  instinct  in  children,  and  will 
give  them  a  healthy,  active  interest  in  'the  simple  life."* 
MARCHING    WITH    MORGAN.      How    Donald 

Lovell   Became    a  Soldier  of    the  Revolution. 

By  John  L.  Veast. 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated         .  •        .      $1.50 

This  is  a  splendid  boy's  story  of  the  expedition  of 
Montgomery  and  Arnold  against  Quebec 
A— 10 


BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE 


COSY  CORNER  SERIES 

It  is  the  intention  of  the  publishers  that  this  series  shall 
contain  only  the  very  highest  and  purest  literature,  — 
stories  that  shall  not  only  appeal  to  the  children  them- 
selves, but  be  appreciated  by  all  those  who  feel  with 
them  in  their  joys  and  sorrows. 

The  numerous  illustrations  in  each  book  are  by  well- 
known  artists,  and  each  volume  has  a  separate  attract- 
ive cover  design. 

Each  1  vol.,  16mo,  cloth *0-o0 

By  ANNIE  FELLOWS  JOHNSTON       c. 

THE  LITTLE  COLONEL      (Trade  Mark.) 

The  scene  of  this  story  is  laid  in  Kentucky.  Its  hero- 
ine is  a  small  girl,  who  is  known  as  the  Little  Colonel, 
on  account  of  her  fancied  resemblance  to  an  old-school 
Southern  gentleman,  whose  fine  estate  and  old  family 
are  famous  in  the  region. 

THE  GIANT  SCISSORS 

This  is  the  story  of  Joyce  and  of  her  adventures  in 
France.  Joyce  is  a  great  friend  of  the  Little  Colonel, 
and  in  later  volumes  shares  with  her  the  delightful  ex- 
periences of  the  "  House  Party  "  and  the  "  Holidays." 

TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY 

Who  Were  the  Little  Colonel's  Neighbors. 

In  this  volume  the  Little  Colonel  returns  to  us  like  an 
old  friend,  but  with  added  grace  and  charm.  She  is  not, 
however,  the  central  figure  of  the  story,  that  place  being 
taken  by  the  "  two  little  knights." 

MILDRED'S  INHERITANCE 

A  delightful  little  story  of  a  lonely  English  girl  who 
comes  to  America  and  is  befriended  by  a  sympathetic 
American  family  who  are  attracted  by  her  beautiful 
speaking  voice.  By  means  of  this  one  gift  she  is  en- 
abled to  help  a  school-girl  who  has  temporarily  lost  the 
use  of  her  eyes,  and  thus  finally  her  life  Becomes  a  busy, 
happy  one. 

A— 11 


Z.  C.  PAGE  &*  COMPANY'S 


By  ANNIE  FELLOWS  JOHNSTON  (Continued) 

CICELY  AND  OTHER  STORIES  FOR  GIRLS 

The  readers  of  Mrs.  Johnston's  charming  juveniles 
•will  be  glad  to  learn  of  the  issue  of  this  volume  for  young 
people. 

AUNT  'LIZA'S  HERO  AND  OTHER  STORIES 

A  collection  of  six  bright  little  stories,  which  will  appeal 
to  all  boys  and  most  girls. 

BIG  BROTHER 

A  story  of  two  boyrf.  The  devotion  and  care  of  Stephen, 
himself  a  small  boy,  lor  his  baby  brother,  is  the  theme  of 
the  simple  tale. 

OLE  MAMMY'S  TORMENT 

"  Ole  Mammy's  Torment  "  has  been  fitly  called  "  a 
classic  of  Southern  life."  It  relates  the  haps  and  mis- 
haps of  a  small  negro  lad,  and  tells  how  he  was  led  by 
love  and  kindness  to  a  knowledge  of  the  right. 

THE  STORY  OF  DAGO 

In  this  story  Mrs.  Johnston  relates  the  story  of  Dago, 
a  pet  monkey,  owned  jointly  by  two  brothers.  Dago 
tells  his  own  story,  and  the  account  of  his  haps  and  mis- 
haps is  both  interesting  and  amusing. 

THE  QUILT  THAT  JACK  BUJLT 

A  pleasant  little  story  of  a  boy's  labor  of  love,  and  how 
it  changed  the  course  of  his  life  many  years  after  it  was 
accomplished 

FLIP'S  ISLANDS  OF  PROVIDENCE 

A  story  of  a  boy's  life  battle,  his  early  defeat,  and  his 
final  triumph,  well  worth  the  reading. 
A-12 


